10 Days
by TheSoggyBug
Summary: "Ten days. That's all it takes to change my mind. Ten days to mourn for the lost. Ten days to chance a new life.  Ten days to be ready to start over again."     Katniss/Gale
1. Chapter 1

_Kay, guys. This is my first Gale fanfiction, so no one laugh. It's dedicated to Michelle, for inspiring me to write a Gale fanfiction, and for me and her having a jolly laugh at the thought of him naked. Don't ask._  
oOo  
It has been one long year of freedom since I defeated President Snow. As much as having that weight lifted off my shoulders felt nice, not everything had been going great. Peeta in particular. We have been growing further and further apart, to the point of embarrassment. The first month was a dream, but after that, a hellish nightmare.  
Peeta had to go to the hospital several times; the de-hijacking process started to fade away. He slowly grew worse and worse, bequeathing him more and more time in the hospital. Until one day, we got the news that he wouldn't be returning. He needed to stay in the critical care unit until further notice.  
By that time, sadly enough, we had grown so apart, we barely ever kissed any more. Peeta's condition was every time he tried holding me, or even giving me a kiss on the cheek, his hijacking would spike. Driven by the mad thought of hurting me, Peeta distanced himself. Now the only time I saw him was every day at 4:30 in the afternoon, I visited him the hospital. But the past week, all he does was sleep. He hasn't been awake in eight days, and I worry.  
I was walking home from my last visit, completely worn out. I had stayed there for five hours, holding Peeta's cold hand, watching the heart monitor system flutter up and down slowly, hoping maybe today would be the day. It wasn't.  
It was nearly ten o'clock now, and I was beat. The emotionally exhausting visit drained me completely and all I felt like doing was taking a nap.  
I rounded the corner of the Victors' Village walk, and dragged my feet into my house. It was cool and empty, ever since my family had parted ways, Mother off to work in another hospital, Primrose to a better place. Even thinking her name made my throat choke up…  
After taking a three-minute shower, I collapsed onto the couch and fell into a deep, painful sleep.

I woke up to the rough words of my old mentor. My eyes peeled open dryly, and I found myself staring into his stubbly, concerned face.  
"Wake up, sweetheart, we have some bad news." The tone of Haymitchs' voice was so heartfelt and sympathetic; it made me sit up, all sleep gone.  
But before he could continue, I flicked my eyes over to the clock hanging on the wall opposite me. It was almost exactly noon. I had slept for a very long time…  
"Katniss."  
Haymitchs' voice once again brought my attention back to him and I blinked.  
"It's about Peeta." He took a seat next to me and stared at his thumbs, rubbing them together nervously. "He…"  
I swallowed. This wasn't going to end well. I felt my heart beating in my throat like a giant drum.  
Haymitchs' face contorted uncomfortably. He seemed more sober than he had been in a while, but then again, he was doing better lately. He rubbed his stubble. "Peeta didn't make it through the night, sweetheart. I'm sorry."  
What?  
My heart thudded once, and stayed still. No. No, no, no… Peeta… I wanted to stand up and accuse Haymitch for lying to me, but the look on my old mentors' face told the truth.  
Hot tears sprung out of my eyes and sobbed loudly. This could not be true… He was my Peeta, my boy with the bread. He couldn't…  
In a sudden rush of terror mixed with fury, I stood up and screamed. Screamed for the pain I had felt because of the Capitol. Screamed for the loss of my sister, for the wreckage of my soul they'd caused. Screamed for my lost sister. Screamed for my Peeta.  
As I cried tears of rage, I gripped a black-framed painting on the wall and sent it sailing to the ground. It shattered into a thousand glinting splinters of glass skidding across the floor. Shards raked my hands, sending droplets of blood staining the carpet.  
I screamed again, and this time bile threatened to rise up in the back of my throat, so I clamped my lips tight. Any second, I would collapse onto the ground in a pile of tears and blood, wanting to die. I already wanted to die…  
Haymitch was just standing off to the side, looking ashamed and ten years older than he actually was. Lines of empathy creased his face, wearing him down. When he reached his arms out to comfort me, I flinched back.  
What was there to do? Blood and tears tainted my clothes, and I was overwhelmed with panic. And before I knew it, I had broke the doorknob in effort to get out, and I was running across the leaf-strew ground of the forest, desperate to get away. To get away from everything back there. My dead Peeta, my sympathetic old mentor, my entire life that had been corrupted. But even if I sprinted to the moon and back, around the earth, across mountains and fields, nothing would heal this broken body.  
I ran until I could run no more, and when I couldn't run anymore, I climbed a tree and draped myself across one of the braches. Every feeling I had stored in my chest came pouring out in a wave of emotion. I screamed my lungs raw, and cried a river of tears to flood the whole world. How much to I have to lose to be able to float again? Stupid hot-air-balloon similes…  
For three hours I cried in my tree of misery. When it was 3:40, I was startled by a rustling sound next to me. My tear-crusted eyes peeled open and I was startled to see a beautiful, black-and-white bird perched on the branch next to me.  
Gorgeous black-tipped wings ruffled politely and it blinked its beady black eyes curiously at me. A crystal clear voice began mimicking my heartbroken sobs. It was quite creepy, actually, having this beautiful creature sitting at my side, crying with me.  
As soon as my breath sucked into my lungs, marveling the bird before me, the Mockingjay stopped crying, and blinked again at me, waiting for more noises to imitate. But none came. I was just gawking at it. No fear, whatsoever. This animal was sitting not three feet from me, unafraid. The mockingjay clicked its long beak expectantly.  
I stayed quiet, though, afraid it would leave.  
He ruffled his head feathers and opened his mouth, as if preparing to mock another sound, but I had said nothing. And when he tilted his elegant head back, the words he uttered made me nearly fall off the branch.  
"Gale…" The birds' tongue worked effortlessly, and when he clicked his beak shut again, the great black-and-white wings spread out and he took off into the sky.  
I stared open-mouthed after it. I hadn't said that. In fact, I hadn't spoken a single word in three hours. How he had gotten that from simple crying, I had no idea. But it baffled the tears right out of me. Now, I no longer had the inescapable urge to curl up and die. Though I didn't exactly feel better, I wanted to get out of the tree.  
Slowly, I crawled down the scratchy bark and stood at the base, wondering what to do. Dried tears stuck to my face, my hair, and my clothes, and my eyes were no doubt read and puffy. From there I started walking, unknowing of where I would end up.  
My feet crunched against the freshly drying leaves of September, breaking the silence. It wasn't exactly cold, but my breath could be seen in rolling clouds of white appearing when I breathed out. My feet carried me into District 12, past the Victors' Village, and into the town part. Pretty soon, I was past the bakery, the clothing shopee, and all the way to the train station. When I walked up to the ticket lady, she asked me what I wanted.  
I didn't even know myself.  
Fumbled and looking like an idiot with my mussed up hair and tear-stained face, I handed her a pile of coins and asked for a ticket to District 2. She put the coins in a drawer, stamped my tag, and handed it to me.  
As I boarded the train, I clutched the ticket to my chest like it was my life, yet it didn't fill the hollow feeling. Nothing would, I'd come to realize. No matter how much I cried, I broke down a thousand houses, it wouldn't change anything. My Peeta was gone. I never wanted to see his gorgeous cream-like face, soft and quiet in a never-ending sleep.  
Hot tears welled in my eyes at the thought and I wiped them away hastily as I took my seat.  
The train rattled on for hour after hour, and I managed not to cry. The sky outside grew steadily darker, and at 9:45, the train began squealing to a stop, metal grinding against metal. After one final jolt and hiss, it stopped.  
Like a robot, I got up and exited the train onto District 2's platform. Everything here was beautiful. A layer of heavy clouds blocked the moon, so the only light available was silver-gray moonlight, peeking through thinner clouds.  
I took a step closer to the town, but stopped, realizing I had no idea where I was going. A few houses down, I could see a golden glow from the curtains, and I chanced knocking on their door. A small boy answered the door. He has rosy red cheeks and fair hair, but his eyes were large and brown. Taking one look at me, he ran back inside, yelling, "Mommy, a girl is here."  
Soon after, a plump woman in a white apron came to the door. "Is there something I can do for you?" Her voice sounded slightly…German if I was correct.  
After glancing down at my hands, and back up at her. "Do you… Do you know where a Gale Hawthorne might live?"  
"Ja." She pointed down the road further. "Four houses down, take the right road, and it is the house at the very end."  
I mumbled a 'thank you', and began to walk away.  
"Danke, Mockingjay." The lady said quietly, and then the door closed, plunging the street once again in semi-darkness.  
I walked uneasily down the sleepy road, admiring the potted flowers hanging in front of many. This was a slightly wealthier district, I noted dully. At the forth house, I took a right, and walked to the end.  
Nestled in the high grass and weeds was a house, not much bigger than my old one from years ago. It was red brick, with a low ceiling, and windows that hard dark curtains drawn over them, though golden light peered through the cracks. On one side of the house, there was a clothesline with several articles of half-dried clothing. On the other side I could see a smokehouse, and a rack of drying meats. This was Gale's place, alright.  
I hesitated as I walked up the steps, unsure what to say or do. My hand was poised near the dark wood of the door, when I stopped. I couldn't do it. Instead, I quietly sat down on the top steps and breathed in the scent of night, clearing my head.  
The aching feeling of despair had no left me, don't get me wrong. It was just that I had exhausted myself. All my tears were already shed, and dried on my shirt. I sat there for a while, until it was at least 10:00, when it started raining.  
It was just a light mist at first, cooling everything down, but then an immeasurable downpour started cascading form the heavens, immediately drenching me. Over to the side, I could see all of Gale's clothing getting wet. Rain ricocheted off of the roof, soaked the grass, and nothing was spared. It was cold, and soon, I began to shiver. I didn't know why I wasn't knocking on the door, asking to come in and dry off. Or even buy a ticket back to District 12 to be in the safety of my own house in the Victors' Village.  
Suddenly, a wedge of golden light appeared from behind, casting my shadow unevenly down the porch steps. It was on impulse I looked back and saw him standing there.  
Gale's straight black hair had gotten longer, and now hung down to his chin, shaggy but not messy. There was less of a boy look in his face, and more of a man.  
For a second he stood there, looking at me as though I were a ghost from his dreams that had come back for him. I stood up.  
Things were silent at first, only the pounding of bullet rain hitting the house heard.  
"It's late. Why are you here?" The pain in Gale's voice was obvious, and I immediately felt guilty.  
After all, it was my fault he had left in the first place. I had broken his heart. I had chosen Peeta over him, shattering whatever soul he had left from previous heartbreak. And now I stood at his door, drenched in freezing rain, wanting to come back to him.  
I was so selfish, only needing him when I saw fit. This wasn't right, this one-way thing. He deserved better than that. He deserved a woman who wouldn't break his heart every chance. Maybe I wasn't that girl, but right now, I had no choice.  
The sound of Gale's rich voice made me even sadder. What was I supposed to say to that? If I told him the honest-to-goodness truth, I would break down, and cry like there was no tomorrow.  
"Gale, he's gone." The words came from my mouth even before I knew I was saying them.  
A hot lump formed in my throat, and I did my best not to blubber like an infant.  
For a moment more, Gale stood there letting me get wet. Then his grey eyes flicked up to mine. "Gone as in…?"  
God, he was clueless. Did he really think I would come rushing up to his doorstep if Peeta had taken a little vacation to District Four? Okay, I might have, but this was a completely different point.  
"Gone, Gale. Like, gone-gone." Now my breath was coming out in short, ragged pants; would-be sobs in my chest.  
Gale looked shocked. Now it was obvious he understood, but would he let me back in? Would he still want to be there for me, even though I had broken his heart?'  
"You had better come inside." He swallowed hard, and stepped aside so I could shuffle into the warmly-lit house.  
It was extremely cozy and well-kempt, with small sofas accompanied by bookshelves on one side, extra doors leading to who-knows-which rooms. Soft yellow light from candles cast shadows upon everything.  
Not knowing where to go, I just stood there awkwardly in the middle of his living room, sopping wet, about to bawl my eyes out any time. Apparently it was as awkward for Gale as it was for me.  
"You can…use my bathroom to shower, if you'd like. I could lend you a fresh pair of clothing since you sat out in the rain for so long." He disappeared into his room and came back out with a bundle of crisp garments for me. When I accepted them, he motioned to the last door on the left and I went to take a shower.  
Seeing as how it was not really my house, I only took a few minutes to scrub the tears off my face and wash my unkempt hair. I dried off with a fluffy beige towel and after pulling on the worn, too-big T-shirt and shorts of Gales, I did my hair in an untidy braid down the back. I walked back into the living room.  
He was there, lounging on one of the sofas, with a small book propped open on his knees. When he heard the bathroom door open, he flicked his silver eyes upwards and just stared at me, with a mixture of emotions. Distrust for one, unease and awkwardness were big ones, and what hurt me the most, was that I could still see that gleam in the back of his eyes I saw two years ago. The very one that told me he loved me. Something stabbed me in the chest and I looked away.  
Resisting the urge to wipe wetness from my eyes, I sat down on the couch opposite him. For a while, we were silent, Gale watching me constantly, as if I was going to snap back and attack him without warning.  
But when the midnight hour hit, Gale slid the book back into the bookcase. "It's awfully late. You can stay here for the night, if you like. Sleep on the couch." His dark eyebrows raised a millimeter in suggestion, and it was all I could do to nod my head slightly. "Wake me up if you need anything."  
Ten minutes later, I lay huddled under blankets Gale had given me, trying to go to sleep. It was warm and dim in the house, and everything was absolutely silent except for the light ticking of the clock on the wall. Gale's slow breathing said that he was asleep, but little did I know that while I lay awake thinking of our broken past, he was doing the same.  
oOo  
_I win. I think that for the first chapter of my first Gale fic, it went rather nicely. I know, I know, it was so incredibly hard to kill my Peeta. Just in case anyone wants to ask, yes he IS dead. Not coming back. I hope this chapter didn't make you cry too much. Happy February, and enjoy your weekend.*sob* _


	2. Chapter 2

_I know Peeta just died, and everyone is all "why isn't Katniss sadder" and stuff, but you must realize his death isn't the point I'm trying to make, or what the story is even about. I know it wouldn't be how it would go, but I'm going to make Kat get over it fast, because I'm trying to focus on Gale, here. _

**oOo**

I sat bolt upright, covered in sweat, the remnants of my nightmare playing over and over in my head. Over and over, a white-fire explosion erupting around me, the screams of young children echoing through the city. My little sister laying blistered and lifeless in my hands.

My heart felt like it was going to pound right out of my chest, and the feeling of hysterics was rising in my chest. I felt like crying, like yelling out to a non-existent someone to help me. But I couldn't; no sound came from my throat, just the feeling of suffocation. I gasped for breath, and painful shards of oxygen filled my lungs.

Not knowing what I was doing, I tossed the borrowed blankets off of me and swung my legs off the side of Gale's couch, shivering. A tear forced its way out of my eye and I swallowed a sob. But this was normal. It had been like this for a few months now. Nightmares of fire and blood awaken me from a restless sleep, only to find I was suffocating. But this time, no one was there for me.

But there was.

Unsure if I was doing the right thing, I forced my legs to stand me up. Of course, I felt like I was going to fall flat on my face, but I managed to drag myself forwards, more hot tears trailing down my face.

I couldn't get the image out of my mind; the fire everywhere, the shouts of children, the dead body of Primrose…

My pace quickened, and without even bothering to knock, I pushed open Gale's room door, but stopped in the doorway. The lights of his room were out, but I could see the dark outline of his sleeping body, laying propped up on the pillows. He was snoring lightly, and I felt a jolt of guilt. Maybe I shouldn't wake him…

But this was urgent. I was in danger of bawling my eyes out right then and there, haunting images of my sisters' last moment replaying themselves over in my mind. After a brief second of hesitating, I shuffled over to his bed and shook his shoulder lightly, but jumped back in embarrassed surprise. It seemed as though Gale had a habit of sleeping without his shirt. But no matter.

I swallowed back another sob and prodded his shoulder again. "Gale." I whispered, sending words raking painfully up and down my throat.

He stirred, and opened his bleary eyes. "What is it?" Gale's voice was slurred with sleep.

"You…" I took a ragged breath and a few steps back. "You told me to wake you if I needed anything."

Gale took in the fresh tears streaking my cheeks, and my arms wrapped across my chest in ache. Slowly, he brought his legs off the side of his bed and stood up. I was inwardly thankful he was wearing pants. But all thoughts evaporated when he started walking uncertainly towards me, grey eyes cautious in the dim light.

He stopped, and for a moment Gale stood there, gazing at my face with an unknown gleam in his eyes. Without meaning to, I hiccupped slightly, and another tear escaped my eyelashes. I didn't want to cry in front of him. I didn't even want to be standing here in his doorway in the middle of the night.

Without warning, Gale suddenly took my wrist and pulled me against his bare chest. I was too surprised at first to do anything. The feel of his warm, smooth skin finally relaxing against mine shocked me. But when he just buried his face in my hair and didn't let go, I allowed myself to wrap my arms around his torso awkwardly. Without realizing it, I found myself suddenly crying against his shoulder, shaking with every sob that tore from my mouth.

If I was more conscious than I had been right then, I might have felt guilty and embarrassed for snotting all over myself and him, but I was feeling a little off, so the matter of snot didn't occur to me.

Gale pressed me tighter to him, closing his eyes against the top of my head. I didn't think he was crying, but I felt his chest raise and fall with every uneven breath he took.

I missed this. I missed having him close to me like this, feeling his heart beat in my body as though it were mine. The aching feeling of relief tore up my soul even more. It was like a really, really big splinter. It hurts when it was in, it hurt worse if it stayed in longer, it hurt when it was removed, and only time could heal the hurt completely. If the splinter was big enough, it would leave a scar. And my splinter was pretty big…

I gentle hand smoothed back my hair from my face and Gale pulled away from me. The look in his eyes was the same way I felt; tortured.

Gale didn't say anything, and didn't meet my eyes. Instead of looking up, he just pulled his arms away from my shoulders and leaned against the wall next to me. There was a silence between us that was almost painful. Then he broke it.

"How have you been holding up the past few months since I saw you last?"

I gawked at him, my skin still tingling from the hug. What kind of question was that? If he was there, he would have known how utterly crap my life is, to be putting it mildly. I couldn't help but be upset at him.

"Wonderful, thanks for asking." There was a hint of animosity in my tone. Tears threatened to show up again. "Asides from the fact that not two months after my little sister got murdered, you vanished to another district, leaving me to deal with my pain all alone when Peeta was slowly dying."

That seemed to light a fuse.

Gale detached himself from the wall and looked at me disbelievingly; hurt displaying on his olive-colored face. "Katniss, I had no idea about what was happening to him. I thought you two were off living the dream or something. You didn't _need _me!"

"Since when have I never needed you?" The words came out unexpectedly in a cry. "I've always needed you! And you left me, never calling, never coming to visit. You just…left." Hot tears rolled down my cheeks, blurring my vision.

The silence after that was agonizing as I waited for his response.

"And you think it's been easy for me?" Gale's voice was quiet.

I exploded. "Is that all you have to say?" I yelled, sobs distorting my words. "I spent _hours _a day, sitting all alone in my room, crying my eyes out. I have been abandoned for a _year _as Peeta died, waiting for something good to happen. It. Never. Did."

The last three words were shrieked, and I turned my back to him to drop down onto my knees. The skin stung where I fell. Tears flowed out of my eyes as I wept, clutching my arms to my chest, feeling like my heart would just tumble out if I didn't.

To my surprise, Gale dropped down next to me, and before I could resist, he pulled me onto his lap, holding me tightly. I could do nothing to this, but I wasn't sure if I wanted to. Gale was so important to me, except he _left _me. He didn't even call… I just lay there curled alongside his body, wanting the reassuring hands against my back to soothe the ache in my chest.

When my sobs quieted enough to be able to hear and think, I felt Gale put his lips close to my ear. "Stay here with me, Katniss. Stay here with me in District 2. I won't leave. I promise."

There was a catch in my breathing. "I can't." But I said that before I could even think. Could I? Did I _want _to? I wiped my palm against my eyes. Then I corrected myself. "I-I don't think I should."

"Why not?" Gale's voice wasn't accusing, just curious. He didn't let go.

"Because…" Heck, I didn't even know myself. "Because I have to stay in Twelve. It's my home."

He swallowed, again unsure. "Then at least stay a week with me. I'll let you know what you have to live for."

What did he mean by that? Spend a week with him? Is that some secret way of wanting to hook up? I shivered slightly at the thought. Maybe a week alone with him wouldn't be the best idea. But he wouldn't do something like that. No… I trusted him.

"You can sleep on it, Katniss. It's too early to stay awake."

His words reminded me that I was actually super-tired, and my body was floppy and exhausted from crying. When I didn't respond to him, his wiry arms slid underneath me and Gale effortlessly picked me up. But instead of returning me to the couch in the living room, I felt myself being tucked under the covers of his bed.

When I felt his hands leave the blankets, I opened my eyes to see the back of him as he began to walk out.

"Stay." I whispered, and childishly reached my hands out to him from under the covers.

He looked back at me, and for a moment he just stood there, hesitant. Then I let my eyes follow his movements as he awkwardly walked back and seated himself next to me on the bed. Satisfied, I closed my eyes once again, but just before I drifted off to sleep, something brushed my cheek. Maybe it was a finger, maybe lips. I didn't know. But I was out too soon after to wonder.

Thankfully, I only had the one nightmare that night. In the morning, my eyes popped open and I found myself confused for a moment. But that passed soon after I felt my side pressed up against my best friends'. Then the news about Peeta came slamming back into my head, but I tried to push it away. I didn't _want _to dwell on that. It was done. Over.

Stifling a morning yawn, I started to get up, but Gale shifted next to me. He noticed I was awake, and I noticed he was awake, but neither of us said anything for a few minutes. Then the silence was broken.

"I'll go make you some breakfast." He got up off the bed, grabbed a shirt from the back of an old chair, and walked out of the room putting it on.

Well, I guess that means I'd have to get up now. I'm sure Gale wouldn't mind serving me breakfast in bed, but asking would just be rude.

My legs swung stiffly over the side of the bed and I dragged myself into the living room, obviously avoiding the floor-length mirror hanging next to the bathroom. I must look like a wreck, physical and emotional. From a day of crying yesterday, to no attempt to clean my appearance up at all since two days ago, it must have been awful to wake up and see this _thing_ next to me.

I heard the clatter of dishes from behind a half-closed door, which I assumed to be the kitchen. Shrugging slightly, I passed that door and went to go curl up on the couch. I locked hands in front of my legs and put my chin on one of my knees.

Had I just dreamt when Gale asked me to stay in District 2 with him? Or was that real, and was he honest? I didn't know what I wanted, really. I didn't know if I wanted Peeta to come back and for him to be perfectly fine. Or did I want to forget about our lives together, count it as some crazy teenage thing. Maybe it wasn't love. Maybe I would get over it. Maybe… Gale was the one.

I shook my head. How was I supposed to know? Right now it would be best to figure out what I wanted, but I honestly didn't know. If I couldn't put it in one sentence, I didn't know. Did I want to be with Gale? Did I want to mourn over Peeta for the rest of my life? Did I want my mother to come back and take care of me until I'm thirty years old?

Freedom was great and all, but all I wanted to accomplish was that no one in Panem had to live their lives in fear. I didn't want them to constantly worry what'll happen to them if they do this, or if their children would get reaped every year until they're eighteen. I wanted national freedom. I didn't want to be alone.

But Mother can't help that. She will never love me like she use to. She's broken beyond repair, and honestly? I don't think she would want to come and let me live with her for the rest of my life. It's just a fact.

But what about Gale's offer? I would never have to worry about being alone if I was with him. But sooner or later I would have to decide which "with him" I wanted. I had a feeling jolly ol' roommates wouldn't be very…welcome. If I wanted to stay with Gale, would he accept my feelings towards him, and hope that it'll change later? Or would he plunge right back into that "If-you-love-me-I-love-you-but-if-you-don't-love-me-I-hate-you" kind of thing again?

My thoughts were interrupted by a quiet clatter of tableware on the coffee table in front of me. I reopened my eyes, contemplation ending abruptly when I see what Gale had whipped up. Long strips of animal fat were cooked until crispy and brown, and he had buttered a piece of plain white bread. It wasn't a whole lot, but I hadn't eaten in a while, so it was plenty.

I ate, and when I was done, I wiped my fingers off on the cotton shorts I was borrowing and gazing sadly down at my hands, lost in thought.

Gale awkwardly tapped his thumbs together. "Are you going back to District 12 today?"

I shrugged.

Things were silent for another few minutes.

"Is there anything I can do for you? Anything at all?"

I looked over at Gale, and discerned the piteous look in his storm-grey eyes, and didn't know how to answer that question. So I just put my head in my hands, and sniffed. "I don't know. Right now I'm just trying to find out what to do with my life now that it's over."

"Your life's not over, Katniss." If I had heard him correct, he sounded a little ashamed of me. "What makes you think that?"

I took my own sweet time answering. "Before, my whole purpose was to get enough food to feed my family. Then it was love Peeta or everyone died. Then defeat the Capitol. I've exhausted my purposes in life. Now I just feel like…dying."

"No, Katniss." One of Gale's arms gripped my shoulders and his eyes burned into the side of my head (my hands were on my face). "You always have a purpose. There's always something to live for."

"What, Gale?" I was almost to the point at yelling at him again, but I tried to keep my voice down. "My little sister just died, my-my Peeta just died, my mother hates me 'cause it was my fault my sister died. The only person I have now is friggin' HAYMITCH. What good is he?" I knew Haymitch would be hurt by that, and I loved him like an uncle, but he just doesn't cut the mustard.

Gale sat still for a second, but when he spoke, his voice was gentle and benign. "You have me, Katniss."

Finally, I had to look up into his eyes. "Let's just hope that's enough to hold me together."

**oOo**

_Y'Know, since there isn't a review button, there's still ways to comment. In fact, at the very end of this post, there's a comment button. :P Really._


	3. Chapter 3

_I haven't read Mockingjay since April, so I'm not sure how accurate my information is going to be, okay? _

**oOo**

I only stayed at Gale's for one more awkward hour. Then I decided it was time to go back home. Gale had washed out and dried my normal clothes, so I didn't have to go back into town wearing his too-big T-shirt and shorts. When everything was ready to go, we set off out the door and down the road.

"Hey, Katniss?" Gale asked when we were almost at the train station.

I looked over at him.

Yet he kept walking, not looking at me. "Consider my offer, okay?"

Even though he probably didn't see it, I nodded anyways and put a few coins on the station desk. Once the ticket was in my hands, I turned back to my friend. "I will. Give me a week, okay? I need to sort things out."

And by 'sort things out', I had meant 'get the whole Peeta ordeal under control', though I didn't say that.

"Of course." Gale noisily slid open one of the section doors and waited as I stepped on. But he didn't close it after me. "But really, Katniss. Think about it. And…" He hesitated slightly, and then looked apologetic. "I'm sorry about not calling. I will now."

"Okay." I had to admit, there was a part of me that _really _didn't want to leave. I wanted to fall back into Gale's arms and cry some more. Instead, I stood up straighter. "I'll let you know if anything changes."

But he didn't answer. There was a certain sad quality in his eyes, as he leaned over, as if to whisper something in my ear. I was frozen to the platform. His lips poised right above my cheekbone, Gale apparently thought better of it and leaned back. "Take care, Katniss."

The door slammed shut and I was carried away on the train, a fleeting glimpse of sorrowful grey eyes lingering in my mind.

From then on, Gale abided to his promise and called me every day. Of course, there really wasn't much to talk about except the weather and sometimes Haymitchs' demon-geese trying to eat my feet off every time I visit my old mentor.

Haymitch always welcomed me, and he obviously did his best to keep his house in semi-order, and not drink too much. When I first visited him the day I got back from Gale's, I collapsed into his arms and cried. After that I made him give me a bottle of secretly-stashed white liquor that made its reappearance in less than three hours. I was running around in his house smashing my face against walls before I had to throw open a window and puke out of that. Then Haymitch made me go home and take a bath, and that's saying something.

Sometimes we would sit on the porch of his house and throw pieces of stale bread out to the demon-geese, who were sweet as sugar whenever Haymitch was near. I enjoyed my time with Haymitch, who was like an uncle to me, though it was never quite the same since our loss.

Occasionally, if I didn't come out of the house at all that day to say hi, Haymitch would come over himself to see if I was alive or not. 90% of the time that happened, I was curled up on the couch crying my eyes out. But after a few pints I forced out of him, he told me that was enough and left. But never before he told me to take a bath. I always took one.

Exactly a week after I had last seen Gale, however, Haymitch appeared in my kitchen Saturday night after dinner. I was busy washing the dishes, so I didn't hear him walk in.

"We have some news." He said.

I jumped, splashing water on my lap at the sound of his voice. When I saw him standing there, I sighed. "What news?"

Haymitch got a small dishtowel from one of the other counters and handed it to me. "They're having a…um…service tomorrow. For Peeta."

I paused my washing and looked down at my hands, unsure what to say. Should I go, knowing I'm going to cry? I wiped a soapy hand under my eye, just getting it wetter. "What time?"

"Nine in the morning." Haymitch leaned on the counter with a sympathetic look in his eyes, though he said nothing.

"I'll be there." I was silent for a few more seconds, only the scraping of a particularly dirty pan preoccupying my hands. Then I felt something cold trickle down my face. I used the dishtowel to mop it off. "I just have to…find something to wear." Though I already had something in mind.

Haymitch nodded. "I'll be here at eight. And Katniss?"

I looked over at him, sure if he stayed any longer, I would bawl my eyes out again.

"Take a bath. We wouldn't want your stench stinking up the place." Haymitch wrinkled his nose jokingly and ruffled my hair. "See you tomorrow, sweetheart."

"Bye." I went back to my scrubbing, a new thought blossoming in my head.

After my shower at ten, I changed into a fresh nightdress and crawled into bed. Bu I laid awake, dreading the nightmares. I knew I would have them; it was inevitable after Haymitchs' news. Still fretting, I feel into a restless sleep.

I didn't remember my dream, really. All I remembered was at the end; something gripped my shoulders, tight and painful like white-hot iron bands, and I was sent screaming back into reality.

It was Haymitch. When I sat bolt upright, covered in sweat and nearly screaming my head off, I pressed myself up against the headboard, trying to slow my heart, which was beating one hundred miles an hour. Thankfully, it wasn't too hard to stop screaming, but it took at least fifteen minutes for Haymitch to calm me down.

Shaking and panting, I clutched my arms to my chest. "I'm awake… I'm awake."

Haymitch looked apologetic and scratched his clean-shaven chin. "Sorry if I scared you, sweetheart. It's eight already."

I collapsed back into my pillows and groaned. "I don't want to go. I'm just going to snot all over the coffin until someone tells me to leave."

"You don't have to go."

"I'm going!" Sighing, I swung my legs off the side of the bed and got up. Then the matter of garments popped into my mind. I sighed a second time. "My clothes are down in the basement. I'll get them."

I threw my hands up into the air in exasperation and left Haymitch in my room looking confused.

It was sort of ironic, I'd have to admit, the outfit I wanted to wear. Dresses weren't usually my thing, but on occasions like this, dresses weren't enough. I wanted to tell the world I'd always remember Peeta, even when I'm dead and gone. I want to tell them how much he'd meant to me, and I loved him.

Down in the basement, there was a dusty old closet, which I yanked open. Inside, there were a number of dresses covered in plastic, hanging up on the bar, the pair of shoes that goes with it hooked to the bottom. I had only wore each one once in my life, so the one I chose needed to be really special.

I flicked through my selection, trying not to flinch. These dresses didn't exactly bring back good memories. Finally, my eyes landed on one that I remembered so well. It wasn't the first, but it was the one I chose. Careful not to mess it up or wrinkle it, I draped it over my arm and closed the rusty closet doors.

When I went back into my room, my old mentors' eyes widened when he saw what I was carrying.

"You're planning on wearing _that, _Katniss?" He barely ever used my real name.

I nodded certainly, and without waiting for a reply, I slinked into the bathroom to change.

When the gown was off and I had slipped the new dress over my head, the sickening feeling of déjà-vu hit me in the chest. I closed my eyes and cast my memory back to the day I had worn this, the roars from the crowd, the cat calls and whistles from above. I was the Girl on Fire.

I opened my eyes and stared at myself in the mirror. Gauzy material clung to my body, sparkling jewels cascading down the curves even I didn't know I had. White on the very bottom faded up to blue, then red, then up to orange and yellow. I was on _fire._ And the shoes only made me stand out more.

My hair was certainly bad, but I didn't have the flashy red ribbon to stick into my braid. So I just brushed it out and braided it as best as I could across my shoulder. Of course, since I wasn't in the Capitol, there was no perfect makeup to put on or anything, but I didn't care.

I walked back into my room self-consciously, and stood awkwardly in front of Haymitch as he gave me a look. Part of him seemed rather impressed. The other was his 'what-the-heck-do-you-think-you're-doing?' look. It was then he vaguely reminded me of my mother.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" I complained, shifting uncomfortably on my feet. "I can wear whatever I want."

He sighed sadly. "It's not that I'm going to tell me to not wear it. It just breaks my heart that you have to."

My throat choked up. For Haymitch to tell me that was really saying something, because he's not a man you'd think gets his heart broken often. But I think he was telling the truth. Peeta and I were as close to his children as it could get.

Haymitch shook his head vigorously as if to clear it. "Never mind that. C'mon, sweetheart. Let's go before we both break down." He took my arms and helped me down the stairs.

The service was not in a church like I had thought it would be. Instead, it was in the square. Haymitch, still gently holding my arm, guided me over to where the gallows use to be. But instead of the horrible whipping post sticking out of the ground, there was a long, gorgeous black coffin, shiny and perfect. Of course, it was closed, but pinched in the hinges were narrow strips of gold and red cloth, meant to look like fire. It was a feeble comparison to what I had on.

Heads turned as I walked into the crowd of at least one hundred. Whispers were exchanged, and eyes followed me and Haymitch unnervingly when we stopped near the front. The heads whipped up to the front, and everyone grew quiet. I strained to see what they were looking at.

A man had stepped up to the coffin. His kind face was twisted in pain, had-been blond hair etched with grey was hanging unkempt over his eyes. I knew that to be Peeta's father.

Swallowing hard, Mr. Mellark held out a club of wood, and lit it with a match. A small fire erupted at the end of the torch. Mr. Mellark bent down and lit the strips of gold on fire. At once, they blazed up and orange fire bloomed from the edges of the black coffin.

Everyone bowed their heads, but when I did, I felt a hot tears trickle down the end of my nose and fall onto the dirt. Haymitch squeezed my arm.

But just like that, the fire was gone, and so were the red and gold strips of cloth. Now was the time for people to step up and say nice things about Peeta or whatever, but no one moved forwards when Mr. Mellark sank into the crowds again. Many people still had their heads bowed, but some just stared blankly at the coffin, wetness running the lengths of their faces.

I felt Haymitch let go of my arm, and when I looked back at his face, he nodded.

Oh, god, I wished I had worn better shoes. My legs were shaky enough as I willed myself not to cry, walking forwards. People watched me as I walked by, some gawking, some pitiful, some still weeping. I ignored all of them, and walked right up to the edge.

The sunlight hitting my jeweled dress threw red gleams on the black wood of Peeta's coffin. Knowing every single pair of eyes was on me, I gathered up my dress in my hands, and just sat down by the coffin. Nothing was said.

The next thing that happened was almost synchronized. Everyone started backing away from the gallows and departed, no one speaking or whispering to each other. No children were heard crying. Even Haymitch disappeared with the rest of the crowd, leaving me to be alone with Peeta.

I didn't know what to say. Nothing seemed right. 'I love you' was just too common, and a big speech was unnecessary. So I just rested the side of my head on the tomb and let salty tears stain the expensive black.

My mind cast back to the first day. He was dying, and I had kissed him. That was pretending.

The second day, I had curled up next to him in my sleep. That was okay.

The third day, I had spent every moment wondering if I needed him.

The fourth I did.

The fifth day I had whispered _"I love you" _into his ear, and had gotten the words back.

The sixth day he was taken from me. I missed him.

The seventh day he was returned, shattered. I wanted him to love me again, but it was no use.

The eighth day he was repaired. I wanted him and loved him, he was mine again. He was okay.

The ninth day he grew sick. I was pushed away.

And now it is day ten. The boy with the bread is gone.

I wept quietly, my cheek pressed up against the cool wood. Streaks of hot brackish water ran down the black paint. I cried for my lost baker, the life I had that was shattered because of the Capitol. I cried until I was thirsty, all dried out, then I cried some more.

Somewhere in between all that crying, strong arms were wrapped around me and I was being held by a stranger. Whoever it was, though, cradled me to his chest and cupped my head to his collarbone. It must have been an hour I sat there in the arms of my archangel, until finally; my sobs were reduced down to dry hiccups. It was then I was able to look up to see the face of whosever these arms belonged to.

I found myself staring into the grief-stricken face of my best friend. And if I wasn't mistaken, there were tears on his face, too. When he lowered his eyes and saw me looking at him, Gale swallowed. "I came as fast as I could. Sorry if I was late."

I shook my head into his chest. "You weren't late. You're perfect." I meant it as 'perfectly on time', but when I said it, the words may have been true both ways.

Gale didn't say anything, just held me closer.

A difference I've found about him was that Gale was always so careful about my feelings. He didn't brush his lips against my forehead to comfort me, or even really sweep my hair back like…like someone else did. I wasn't sure if I wanted him to or not. All I wanted was to escape this world and be okay for once. But that wasn't happening any time soon, I guess.

Taking a semi-deep breath, I looked back up at him. "Gale?" My voice was a hoarse whisper.

"Hm?"

I wasn't quite sure how to word this, or if he would be okay with it at this ungodly hour. All that I knew is that I _did _want it. I was tired being alone all the time. "I'm going to take you up on your offer. Let's see what harm a week can do."

**oOo**

_Okay, here comes the waterworks… _


	4. Chapter 4

**OOO**

With a change of clothes and a tear-streaked face, I boarded the train with Gale and cried into his chest the whole way to District 2. When it squealed shrilly to a stop at the station, he had to practically drag me back to his house, where I cried some more on the couch. Thankfully, when it was time for dinner and for Gale to leave me, I was all dried up. When he put food in front of me, I didn't even eat it. I just stared blankly at the wall past him.

"Katniss, you can't starve yourself." He seemed half-sympathetic, half-annoyed. "It would just make things harder for you."

I avoided his eyes, stirring my soup dolefully. "I'm not hungry."

Gale was contemplative for a few seconds, then he said, "Fine, but if you refuse to eat your breakfast, I _will _shove it down your throat."

I didn't say anything, just sat back on the couch, willing myself not to cry any more. It was really exhausting work, crying. Especially if you had been crying for a week straight. At the end, it leaves you jaded and feeling very under par. I leaned my head back and closed my eyes.

Noting my fatigue, Gale stood up. "I'll get you a blanket."

But I didn't get to feel the cozy wool blanket spread over me, and the light hand on my face. As soon as Gale walked out of the room, I had fallen to sleep.

**GALE'S POV**

When I had went back into the living room, she was out. Snoring and everything. I spread the blanket over her and touched her forehead with my finger, but she wasn't hot. The illness I labeled her with did not include a fever, though emotional sickness could lead to physical as well.

To be honest, I was upset that Peeta had died too, causing all this pain for her. In fact, I didn't really hate him anymore. At first I loathed him because he had stolen the girl I loved from me, because of the Capitol.

I had to admit I wasn't too happy with Katniss, either, for allowing them to shape her that much. But she was shaped, and fell in love, tearing me even further. Nevertheless, she was happy. The only positive thing about this whole situation was that Peeta made her happy. But now he was gone, never to come back, and she was broken to little bitty pieces.

Before, I had wanted Peeta to just disappear so I would get a chance with her, but always be careful what you wish for, because I had gotten my wish, and I would rather her be happy with Peeta, than not with me. But maybe over time, I could make her happy. With friendship if nothing else.

Sighing, I went to go take a shower. I spent a long time in there, feeling the cool water droplets tumbling down my face. But, for once, they didn't clear my mind. I turned off the water, toweled off, and put on some fresh nightclothes, making a conscious effort to remember my shirt. No shirtless nights were allowed with ladies staying in the house. Unless, of course, the ladies don't have any either, but that was a different story…

I lay in bed until eleven that night, trying to remember what it felt like to have Katniss next to me. She was such a peaceful sleeper, unless you count her nightmares and/or snoring. I didn't know girls could snore at all, but then again, I don't normally have them sleeping in my house.

My fingers stretched over to where her head had lain, unmoving and silent. Almost as if she had passed away in her sleep, but the slow rise and fall of her chest as Katniss breathed told me otherwise. God, she was beautiful.

Instead of sleeping, I decided to listen to Katniss sleep. Loud breathing, and the occasional snorting grunt. I didn't blame her for being that exhausted, really. But even with all the crap that has been going on, it was hard not to smile, hearing a delicate girl like that sleep so…loudly.

With that amusing thought in my head, I finally drifted off to sleep, not knowing I would wake up in less than three hours to screams.

It was around 2:15 that morning, when my eyes opened to frantic cries of terror. For a split second I was frightened, but after realizing it was only Katniss and her nightmares, it was just worry that made me get up.

When I went into the living room, I saw her sitting straight up, clutching her mouth with one hand, her opposite shoulder with the other. When I sat down, her terrified grey eyes flicked up to me, and more tears welled in them. There was no hesitating when I pulled her into my arms and let her stain my shirt with salty tears.

Part of me wondered if it was going to be like this every night. The other part wondered if this had happened before the Capitol killed Prim. If Peeta was the one getting up every night and holding her like this. It was probably perfectly normal to her, being held tightly be men in the middle of the night while she had an excuse to her face buried in their chests. If this was normal, and she was never actually aware of embarrassment, it would be okay to maybe kiss her on the forehead? I thought better of it.

We sat there for a while as Katniss' breathing grew slower and her tears shuddered to a stop. When all that was left was an awkward sitting position, she groaned into my shirt. "God, this has got to _stop. _I can't go on like this…"

I was going to tell her I didn't mind waking up every night to calm her down, but I didn't, in fear she would take it as my subtle way of telling her to stop having nightmares. Instead, I just held my arms around her, growing more and more aware of how we were sitting. If she was fully conscious and not torn apart right now, I'm sure Katniss would be humiliated, too.

A few more seconds I waited, and then she shrank back to the other side of the couch and rubbed her eyes. "I can't even remember that one…"

I assumed she was talking about her nightmare, so I kept silent still.

Once she figured out I wasn't going to say anything, Katniss just sniffed tears back and closed her eyes again the cheap material of my couch. Feeling sympathetic, I reached over and tucked the wool blanket around her and started to stand up. But when I saw the silver glints of her staring at me as I turned around, I stopped.

"Stay with me, Gale." She whispered in a voice barely audible.

It was hard to ignore the sensation of melting heart. Swallowing slightly, I nodded and sat down next to the couch, but not before I caught the tired, yet satisfied glint in Katniss' weary grey eyes. She mouthed _'thank you' _and settled down under the blanket.

I watched her as the sleep took effect, and she was breathing lightly, no doubt lost in dreams about the Games. Careful to be quiet as not to wake her, I got up and went to my room, but not before brushing my lips ever so gently on the top of her head. Of course, I would never do that when she was awake. But that was okay with me.

I turned off the lights and crawled in bed without even bothering to change into pajamas or take a shower. My head was too full of thoughts about Katniss to be worried about anything else. And as I listened to the soft breathing of the girl I loved from outside my door, I fell into a comatose sleep.


	5. Chapter 5

**Katniss' POV**

I opened my eyes in the morning to a plateful of scrambled eggs. I hadn't had that stuff in forever, but honestly I didn't have an appetite. Sitting up, I pricked my ears to pinpoint Gale's location, whether the kitchen doing dishes, or back in bed snoring his head off. The muted hiss of the shower answered.

Groaning slightly, I stood up stiffly and popped into the second bathroom to change into a new pair of clothing. After pulling the shirt over my head and pulling on the worn trousers, I dragged myself out, only to find Gale standing in the middle of the living room, scratching his head. When the grey splash of his eyes met mind, he sighed.

"I thought you had ran away on me." He glanced down at my abandoned breakfast. "Why aren't you eating?"

"I'm not hungry." It was the usual answer, and it was true.

Gale gave me a look. "Remember what I said yesterday about shoving it down your throat if you refuse?"

Crap. Yeah, I remembered. With an upset look on, I took my food and ate every last bit of it, and just to add a hit of cheekiness, I held the plate out to Gale and made a point to set it in his hands. He remained unfazed and went to put it in the kitchen. When Gale came back, he stood in front of me looking contemplative.

I raised my eyebrows in a slightly mocking 'what?' face.

"I was thinking about taking you into town today." He said finally, completely ignoring my hostility today. "Show you around, get some fresh air."

I really didn't want to get out. I wanted to curl up under the covers and fall asleep for a few years. That sounded lovely; sleeping away my troubles and grief, and wake up not remembering or caring. Having the blissful silence of the night envelope me in its warmth, keeping me company until I wake. But of course, I never got what I wanted because Gale, being the stubborn young man he was, took my arm and all but pushed me out the door. After that, I had no choice but to follow.

He led us down the narrow dirt road, and instead of going left to the train station, we went right towards the town. I couldn't help but notice the crisp colors of autumn winking hello to me. Orange and red leaves shimmered like fire on the wispy branches of birch trees. Antifreeze-green grass spurted up randomly through the dirt, pointing to the sky. I was surprised to note that the sun was shining through a grey layer of clouds, dim, yet illuminating colors of the world below.

Despite my depression, I couldn't _not _want to keep my eyes open to absorb every inch of this little town. Gale, who had his hand just barely brushing my shoulder to lead me, pointed things out as we walked.

"That's the parts store." He explained pointing to a small store nestled near the bakery, displaying an odd number of electronic gizmos at the display window. Gale then pointed to the shop right past us. "And that would be where we get a lot of our clothes, seeing as how a lot of us can't afford to purchase clothes from the actual tailor."

I looked around at everything he pointed at, fascinated by the difference of District 2 and District 12.

"Right here," Gale finally explained. "is the seamstress." There was a tiny bit of touchiness I detected in his voice, and that very second, I learned why.

"Oh, Gale!" A sugary-sweet, feminine voice called out from the open window.

I blinked in surprise as a girl popped her head out. She was very beautiful, which was the first thing I noted. Strawberry blond curlers framed her perfectly heart-shaped face. Her eyes, which were an intriguing celery green, were open widely and staring at Gale.

"Hi!" She poked a hand through the window and waved. I couldn't help but notice that instant when he eyes flicked to me and back. It was obvious she was making an effort to ignore me.

Gale looked on the verge of groaning, but he just attempted a nice smile. "Good morning." He looked over at me, and back at the girl. "Katniss, this is Livian Actiecia, the seamstress' daughter. Livian, this is Katniss."

There was no need for my last name, because, judging by Livian's weird face, she knew who I was.

"Um… Hello." She didn't smile, just raked her eyes up and down me, a scowl growing on her sweet face. I said nothing. After a second more of awkward scrutinizing, she turned her attention back to Gale, who looked uncomfortable. "Gale, mum and I were talking at breakfast and she wants to have you over for dinner."

I was hard to decide if she was telling the truth or not, but even if, I did not like this girl. The way she flicked her hair behind her shoulder made me oddly possessive over Gale.

"I have other plans." He said simply, and—with his hand still at my shoulder—began walking away. "See you."

I turned my head back, just to see the glaring green of Livian's eyes pierce me before she disappeared inside. When I turned back, the thoughts of the cat-like girl who had flirted with my Gale were gone.

Gale and I kept walking through town, mostly silent. Every now and then he would point something out, but we kept our mouths shut for the most part.

At one o'clock, we stopped to get food at a nearby vendor, and an hour later we got back going. Again, we were silent and started slow at first, but when he gently steered me down a long, winding dirt road that didn't stop for half an hour, I had to ask.

"Where are we going?" My voice, which was attempting to be interested, just sounded bored.

Gale shrugged. "This path leads into the woods a bit further, then up a mountain trail. I didn't think you wanted to go back so soon."

I kind of did, but I didn't tell him. I blinked slowly, attempting to be interested as he kept talking. It was hard to focus, though, because my mind kept wandering off towards the other, less important, details. How the sky was nearly the exact shade of Gale's and my eyes. How the air had gotten a tiny bit colder; even the trees had anticipated the coming rain. They had grown all still, leaves tilted up slightly to drink the water and to swallow what little sunshine was left.

As if on cue, the second I glanced up again at the overcast sky again, a drop of cool water fell straight in my air. I jumped back in surprise and let out a startled noise. After the one droplet, a second came, then a third, and before we knew it, our bodies were soaked to the bone with rain water that trickled down our backs and coated our hair.

Gale looked up and he seemed to smile. "We've needed a good rain. Well, come on." He looked back down at me. "We should go if we don't want to be swimming the last mile or so."

I curled my hand around the crook of his arm—mostly because I didn't know where to go—and let him lead me as we jogged back down the road. But even though we were going at a speed to fast to classify as a walk, the rain vowed to get us freezing and wet as soon as possible. It pelted down in sheets of slate blue, showing the dirt road with flecks of sludge, getting the hem of my pants muddy brown.

Gale and I flat out ran across town, splashing passersbys with water and muck. It was actually…not too miserable. By that time, I was sodden completely down to every last hair on my feet, I was clutching Gale's arm as he ran quite faster than me, we skidding along town. When his house was in sight, we put on one last surge of speed and hurdled ourselves inside. At the same time, both Gale and I collapsed onto the couch, smearing it with our filth. He was laughing.

I didn't know what to do. There was a small, yet warm feeling inside me that was partly fueled by adrenaline that made me want to laugh, too. But as soon as I recognized the feeling, it was crushed by a sob. Honestly, I didn't know where it came from, but I snuffed it out with my dripping wet sleeve.

Gale's grin dwindled down to a look of concern. He attempted to meet my eyes, but when I turned my head away from him, he sighed sympathetically. "You're going to catch a cold like that."

I nearly scoffed through the thin cotton of my jacket. I could catch the friggin' Black Death for all I cared. But having the firm gaze of Gales' hammering into the side of my head, I reluctantly got up and dragged myself to the bathroom where I changed clothes. In the mirror, I gazed at the miserable wreck of a girl in front of me. Blue circles under my eyes, scraggly hair in need of a good washing, my arms hanging at my sides limply. I looked like the Grim Reaper. Ugh… I had a feeling this would last a while.

In the night, I was awakened with a sharp breath raked from inside of my own lungs. My heart was pounding out of my chest, but try as I might, there were no images in my head that told me of my nightmare. In fact, all I remembered was a dark and uneventful night, which was rare.

I lifted my head up off the couch, which Gale had cleaned off before bedtime. All was silent around, and even the deep breathing coming from the closed door of Gale's room proved that he had not woken up from my screaming (whether nonexistent or not). Sighing, I flopped my head back down on the pillow. If only… I wanted to know what had waken me up. It must not have been that bad, because my heart had already slowed. Though, I had a feeling.

My eyes began to slide shut again, purely out of fatigue. Well, whatever had haunted my previous sleep shouldn't have been that bad if I forgot it within five minutes of it ending. Wishing everything was back to normal, I fell again to sleep, yet the last thought in my brain troubling me. It was spoken in the voice of Haymitch, of all the people. _Be careful what you wish for, sweetheart._

**oOo**

_Last night my buddy made me ponder. This story is pretty much going to be not very happy for almost all of it. The last…three, maybe, chapters will be that kind of "so sad and sweet it's happy" kind of sad, but the last one will be more of the "so sweet and touching there'll be tears running down your face" kind of sad. :DD I might make a sequel if I'm not content with the happiness meter. But of course you people will get a say in it, too. Hope you liked this chapter! Oh, and like I said a while back, I am going to be a bit rough on the details _


	6. Chapter 6

**Gale's POV**

I had to admit when I woke up this morning I was surprised. Not only had Katniss slept through the night, but she had woken up by herself as well, and was in the shower when I got up. Inwardly curious, I went on fixing breakfast as I did ever day. But I was only five minutes into heating up the porridge when there were footsteps behind me.

When I turned around, my eyes only fell upon the back of Katniss as she walked back to the couch. Her hair was freshly washed and brushed, but again she surprised me by having it down. I could barely ever remember a time when she didn't have her hair in a braid except in the Capitol and District 13 when it was just a tangled mess around her face.

As if sensing I was looking at her, Katniss turned around, dull grey eyes flicking to mine. "What?"

I shook my head, still in awe. "Why aren't you wearing your hair back in a braid? You don't…look like yourself."

It was a shallow question, yes, but even Katniss seemed to have an answer to it. A faint hint of red crept into her cheeks, but the sad tint of her face didn't waver. "I can't be Katniss Everdeen without Peeta Mellark."

Though it was a silly answer, I understood. Like bread and jam, stew and crackers, music and birds. Everyone knew one as the other, and never without. Katniss was famous as a partner with Peeta. Their names always accompanied each other in sentences. And it upset me how that was so true.

Couldn't she be Katniss Everdeen with me?

Katniss, not waiting for my answer, turned back around and sat on the couch, curling her knees up to her chest like I'd seen her do so many times. Like she's trying to hold herself together.

Still slightly miffed about what she had said, I gathered the food onto plates and went back into the living room, where I sat down next to Katniss and handed the food to her. We ate in near silence, but I couldn't help but feeling eating was a slight improvement. In a little more time, maybe I could actually get her to smile. Or at least get the near-permanent miserable droop in her eyes to go away.

After the plates were cleared and replaced back into the kitchen, I made some tea. The minty kind from leaves that we had in common. It was our favorite. Even though before I hadn't seen her in months, I always kept a box around just in case I'd see her again. Then we could sit with fond memories in our hands.

Gripping both the cups in my hands, I went back to Katniss, who was dozing lightly on the couch, and pressed the warm mug of tea into her hand. Thin fingers involuntarily curled around the cup and she opened her eyes to look down at the contents. It was obvious she recognized the sweet scent, because for a moment, our eyes met and I tried reading hers. It was hard to pin, like always, but if I wasn't mistaking, the flicker in the light silver thanked me.

So I sat on the couch next to her, both of us sipping the lovely mint tea I had kept for times like this. I was trying to gather the courage to comfort her, to put my arm around her hunched shoulders and hold her. But even though we have known each other for something like six years, I was afraid. Every time I touched her, I would feel guilty. It would only make it worse, I guess. Every hint of affection I showed her would be compared to and remind her of Peeta.

In the process of shaking off the feeling of detachment, I reached over to pull a random book off the bookshelf next to me. Well aware Katniss' curious eyes were trained on me, I flicked it open and stared down at the page I turned to. It was a poem. Huh. I didn't know I had any poem books.

_I wandered lonely as a cloud_

_That floats on high over vales and hills_

_When all at once I saw a crowd_

_A host, of golden daffodils_

_Beside the lake, beneath the trees_

_Fluttering and dancing in the breeze_

_Continuous as the stars that shine _

_And twinkle on the milky way_

_They stretched in never-ending line_

_Along the margin of a bay_

_Ten thousand I saw at a glance_

_Tossing their heads in a sprightly dance_

I stopped at the end of the second verse, because I felt the hairs on the back of my neck tingle a bit. I looked over and saw Katniss leaving towards me, looking over my shoulder at the book with a mesmerized face on. Her eyes peeked up, and in seeing me catching her reading over my shoulder, she shrank back.

"Sorry, I-I just recognized the poem from school…two years ago." She shrugged apologetically and turned her head to fix her gaze on something way off to the right of us.

"It's alright." I reassured her, and pressed my arm lightly against her shoulder in a reassuring touch. She turned back to me, and I added, "I don't read often."

But of course, she knew this. She knew nearly everything about me, including my fascination of books—or utter lack thereof.

"Really." I assured her.

Slightly awkwardly this time, Katniss settled back next to me and kept reading. But I, on the other hand, didn't continue. The poem just went on like that, praising the beauty of golden flowers in the field. I didn't feel like reading something that happy about flowers. It brought back memories from a few years ago when Katniss and I used to go hunting in the summer. We didn't get much done on the best of days, when we would just sit in the patch of daffodils hidden in the forest. We smiled and laughed and smacked each other like friends.

"_And then my heart, with pleasure fills, and dances with the daffodils."_ Katniss murmured the last two lines and looked up at me. She obviously remembered what I did, too.

There, in the silence of my small home, memories flood between us, breaking against out still bodies like waves.

The frightened look in her eyes when I was pulled into a house by Peacekeepers in the Capitol, the tears running down her horror-stricken face.

The moment after she was poised in front of President Snow, who was chained to the post, and shot Coin instead. Everyone in Panem could see on-screen her reaction, screaming her head off, biting into the material of her shoulder, but Peeta stopping her from being able to swallow the pill that'd end everything.

After she was brought into the gleaming walls of the Capitol building, after she was released from the hospital and I had found her in her room with the bow in her hand, looking like death. The look on her face when she asked me if it was my bomb that had killed Primrose. I had never wanted to tell her.

Always before, secrets were not my thing. There was barely a thing in the world she didn't know about me, and that I could keep from her. But when she asked me if it was my bomb, I lied. It was my bomb. And I knew it.

"Gale, why are you…?" Katniss' broken voice brought me back down into reality and I saw her small finger poised right above my cheek, an uncertain yet painful look in my mirrored eyes.

Her finger just brushed, barely even noticeable, on my cheek, and she drew it back, examining the wet tip with sorrow. "I don't remember the last time you cried."

I hastily shook my head and dried the tears with my sleeve. I hadn't noticed I was crying. "Never mind that." I wanted to add something, but I didn't know what. Thankfully, Katniss filled the silence.

"Read a poem. Out loud." She seemed quiet and hesitant, but slightly hopeful as she pulled her knees back up to her chin and stared at the coffee table in front of us, waiting.

"_The day is done, and the darkness_

_Falls from the wings of night_

_As a feather is wafted downward_

_From an eagle in his flight_

_I see the lights of the village_

_Gleam through the rain and mist_

_And a feeling of sadness comes over me_

_That my soul cannot resist_

_A feeling of sadness and longing_

_That is not akin to pain_

_And resembles sorrow only_

_As the mist resembles rain"_

I realized this may not be the happiest poem to read at the present time, but as Katniss instructed, I did not stop.

"_Come, read me some poem_

_Some simple and heartfelt lay_

_That shall soothe this restless feeling_

_And banish the thoughts of day"_

It was then I chose to pause and look over, curious by the silence that answered my reading. Katniss was fast asleep, head lulled on her shoulder, slumped in an exhausted position.

A smile spread across my lips at the sight. This was one of the very rare moments her features are smoothed out into a peaceful complexion. She was beautiful, that opinion never wavered or changed through the years. Though we both have been through hell—Katniss more than me—she still is the same girl I fell in love with, and very well may always be.

I leaned over and let my lips just barely brushed her temple and I stood, replacing the book on the shelf. After draping a blanket over her delicate body, I went to my own room. We were missing lunch, but I let her sleep. And as she slept, I hoped her dreams remained unperturbed and tranquil. Maybe they were of me.

I could only hope.

**oOo**

_Those poems were called 'Daffodil' and 'Day is Done', but I forgot who they're by because I don't have the book on hand right now. :DD I know this chapter was pretty short, but oh well. Guten aberd. Oh I think that was a major German spell fail. HAHA I'm still a little rusty. Maybe it has an 'n' in it instead… :D We may never know. Schluf guten. I think that was another fail. Never mind… Shutting up!_


	7. Chapter 7

_I know. I'm bad. But in actually continuing this, I must thank my super-amazing pally-o Michelle. The only reason I started this fanfiction was because Michelle wrote a Gale one-shot, and due to her effing AMAZING writing, I fell in love with Gale. But since she wasn't continuing the one-shot, the special Gale-feeling faded away. But now (goody goody) she showed me a bit more of her excellent Gale writing and I've fallen back in love. But I also need to say 'thank you' and 'sorry' to everyone else that has loved and stuck with me. So here you are, and sorry for the wait. :D _

**oOo**

** KATNISS' POV**

I woke up early after a night full of confusing dreams. Just flashes of color and shapes zip in and out of my mind, weaving and interceding with my normal thoughts. Groaning quietly to myself, I forced my feet to drag my dead-weight body off the couch.

It was apparent Gale hadn't woken up yet, because his bedroom door was still 90% closed, and there were no sounds of bustling in the kitchen. Shrugging mentally, I slumped into the bathroom and shut the door behind me. I stared in the mirror. A corpse stared back.

Jet black hair, greasy and unkempt for the few days of ignoring it, hung straggled around my head. Running horizontally across one of my cheekbones was a pink indentation where I'd fallen asleep on the seam on my shirt. Blue bags hung under my eyes, only emphasizing my horrid state. I groaned at my ghastly reflection.

Things were not looking up for me. I had thought maybe Gale'd help this depression I was going through, but the space hollowed out by Peeta's death hasn't been filled by Gale. Gale seems to have shoved himself in somewhere else, fitting where I'd thought impossible, only making the edges of Peeta's wound ache more in the tension of having both of them crammed into my heart, void and valid.

I splashed some water on my face and yanked through some of the worst tangles with my fingers, only doing a half-hearted job. It didn't really matter. If Gale was going to run, screaming from me, he'd have done it already. Nothing to fear in the abandonment apartment, aside from getting over _being _abandoned.

A brisk, hesitant knock on the bathroom door made me look up. I needn't wonder who it was, because there was only one other person in this house besides me. I opened the door.

Gale, in his usual nightclothes, was standing there, looking politely inquisitive.

I mumbled an apology, thinking he needed to use the bathroom, and began to go around Gale to the other side, but he shook his head.

"I don't need to go. Just wondering where you went." He shrugged and backed away to let me exit the bathroom.

I noticed there was something bothering him, due to that familiar crease in between his brows. My mind was slow, so by the time I comprehended Gale's expression, he had caught me looking. I flicked my eyes back away and went to sit down on the couch, feeling a blush creep onto my cheeks. An accidental blush, but a blush nonetheless.

"I was hoping you'd help me with breakfast." Gale seemed to use his words delicately, wavering there where he stood, uncertain of the offer. "To…get your mind off things."

I blinked once, slowly, considering his suggestion with dull interest. Though I highly doubted it would get my mind off of _anything…_ I swallowed and pulled my legs off the couch and stood up. "Sure."

Gale was indifferent by my responses usually being one-word long. He let me follow him into the kitchen, where I was put to work peeling and slicing a few apples. Of course, Gale had that kind of money to afford things like this. It was no problem for him to get an excellent job, judging his infamousness, not to mention the fact he still gets the majority of his food in the woods. So there isn't the cost of expensive meat or greens, which takes care of most of the bills he'd usually have. Leaving money to splurge on sweet fruits and this creamy grain stuff he was putting in a pan.

Silence was a mutual appreciation between both of us, so words were not used as we prepared the food. Aromas of fruit and buttery oatmeal wafted around the kitchen, filling my nostrils. It was pleasant, and Gale was right; it did get my mind somewhat off things. To focus on not chopping my finger off with a knife took a lot of my attention. But, of course, it happened. All it took was one glance at what Gale was doing to slip.

I sucked in a sharp breath as a bead of scarlet blood gathered on the crook of my finger. Gale glanced over and hastily set down his wooden spoon. "Ohh…" He grimaced and automatically took my wrist gingerly in his hand, and put it under a spray of water that was now running from the tap.

But the cut didn't sting like I would have imagined. Instead, my eyes were trained on Gale, only the feeling of his soft, calloused fingers under my wrist cut through the fog in my mind. It seemed as though the thought of me taking care of myself hadn't even crossed his mind. Heavy black eyebrows were scrunched above tenacious gray eyes as Gale gently washed away the blood, and applied medicine. I just stared.

The way his shaggy black hair wouldn't stay behind his ear no matter how much he tucked it there. The stern, yet gentle set of his jaw as he took his time on my miniscule wound. The definition of his scarred face, olive and perfect, curved cheekbones and long lashes… Maybe I was tired, but Gale wasn't the same Gale I'd fallen asleep next to on the couch yesterday.

His eyes flicked up to mine and he caught me staring. Immediately, we both dropped gazes and, in Gale's case, he dropped my hand. "Sorry. Habit."

But it wasn't. Back in the woods those many years ago, if I got a tiny scratch like that, he'd laugh and tell me to 'man-up' and tough it out. Maybe wash it out in the stream. But never take care of it himself. That thought just made me blush even more.

"Here," I shoved the large plate of apple slices into Gale's hands. Thankfully, I'd cut myself finishing the last slice up, so I was done.

Gale nodded thanks, and just plopped a few wedges of fruit on each of our bowls of buttery grain porridge. After sitting down, it was silent other than the sound of scraping bowls.

I was preoccupied, eating slowly, trying not to think too hard about what Gale had just did. Abnormal and curious, there had to be a reason. Something on his mind. Of course, there was a fair chance he still felt feelings towards me, but even then, feelings didn't get in our way before. This was different for the most part. "Feelings" for us didn't mean tend to tiny wounds caused by slicing fruit. "Feelings" for us didn't entitle one to kiss the other to sleep. And yes, I was awake enough to know he did that.

Part of me felt guilty for being like this. The other part said 'screw him. He'll never be what Peeta was'. But even that, and even thinking of that, was horrible and made my stomach hurt just thinking about it. Grimacing, I shoved my half-eaten breakfast away from me and crossed my arms over my chest.

Gale, who was already done, leaned back and looked at me with a sympathetic look, though he was silent for a few seconds before speaking. "How are you doing? With all this? Is there anything…" An awkward frown stretched on his lips. "Anything you want to talk about?"

I blinked tiredly and rested my cheek on the cool wood of the table. "The usual. Not anything to talk about."

He leaned back towards me and folded his hands under his chin. "Do you want to go anywhere today? Hunting?"

It was a long stretch, asking me to go hunting with him again. Well, he wasn't really asking me to join him. Just come along for old times' sake. I shook my head. "Too exhausted."

"You didn't sleep well?" Gale was bending backwards to continue the conversation, or lack thereof.

Meh. "Not so much. Just really light sleep, not very…restful. Strange dreams…" My eyebrows scrunched, again trying to recall exactly what they were about.

"What were they about?" Gale didn't catch on my tone of voice, not understanding I didn't know either.

I shook my head again, and shrugged uninterestingly. "I don't know. They were fuzzy."

But suddenly, out of nowhere, an image popped up so suddenly in my mind that I jerked upwards. His face. Grinning, shaking blond hair away from the brilliant blue eyes that has never failed to be the reason for my tears. Staring, just staring, with that gorgeous smile that could light an entire gymnasium. It felt like a wrecking ball had swung into my chest.

Tears forced their way out of my eyes, but Peeta didn't go away. He stuck around, branded in my memories. I wanted him; I wanted to feel his arms around me, his lips in my hair. I wanted to go back in time and tell him just how much I loved him, needed him. I wanted to fall down on my knees and cry into my hands, begging for him to forgive me. I was stupid.

If I could go back in time, I would have loved him from the start. No pain for him; he's had enough. I wanted to let him know how much he meant to be and how stupid I was for not seeing it. Every moment we spent together should have been real and precious.

But I'll never get the chance. Never again will I hear the laughter, tolerant of my cheesy jokes. I will never wake up and have body curled protectively around mine, guarding me from the night. He gave me everything, _everything, _he gave me his heart. He deserved better than me. He would have been _alive_ if it wasn't for me…

Something tugged my heart painfully. With a hand clapped over my mouth, I scrambled out of the chair and ran, sobbing, out of the room. It must have looked odd from Gale's point of view, one minute asking about a dream, the next watching me run crying from the kitchen. But all thoughts of him were erased no sooner than they appeared.

"Katniss," Gale materialized behind me and reached out his hand, a benevolent look in his eyes. "Don't cry."

"No!" I shrieked, out of habit more than anything. I shrank away from Gale and ran the opposite direction, back into the kitchen. Blind to the rest of the world, I just trembled and ran around the room, gripping my head in my hands, moaning. Peeta was still there, never leaving. He was even there with my eyes open, but it hurt. "Get out of my _head!" _I cried in anguish, tears flowing free.

Gale was attempting to halfheartedly follow me, arms stretched in front of him, looking helpless. I avoided him, crying even harder.

"Get out, get out…" I wanted to rip my eyes out, get the smiling face of my dead partner stuck behind my eyelids. _No, no. _He wasn't leaving, but it hurt so badly. With shaking hands, I fumbled around on the countertop, tears blurring my vision. My fingers curled around the knife I had been using for the apples, and gripped it in my hand. The edge pressed against the skin of my forearm.

But stopped. I couldn't do it, couldn't… But the beautiful face still stood there, unwavering and never less perfect. With a ragged cough, I yanked the table knife across my skin. A line of brilliant red appeared immediately and dribbled onto the floor.

A stab of pain shot through me, blinding me with agony for just a few seconds. All thoughts of Peeta vanished momentarily, causing me to choke. I couldn't, I needed to, I _had _to… I gripped the knife again. Just—

But before I could do what I had intended, the blade was knocked from my hands by Gale. He was shouting my name, infuriated by my intentions, and I was crying, shouting at him for stopping me. But finally, I was shut up by getting pulled roughly into his chest. Strong arms wound around me, gripping me tighter than I had thought, heartbeats like drums beating violently in our chests.

Gale's arms were unyieldingly strong, but the past few minutes had worn us into jelly. With a jagged breath, he slid down the wall onto the floor, slumping into an exhausted position, but keeping hold of me. I couldn't unbury my face from his shirt, though.

I was so ashamed, yet still slightly mad with torture. I was bleeding all over him, no doubt, my wrist stinging. The cut was deep enough to hurt like hell and empty out half my blood supply, but not deep enough to kill. But it got rid of Peeta, that's for sure. My own special type of masochism.

"God…" Gale seemed almost trembling with me as well, and his hand ran once, roughly, smoothing back my hair. "God, Katniss…" He took an uneven breath and held me out, hands careful under my wrist. Again. Examining my awful bleeding wound. Again. Made by the same knife.

Air was wheezing in and out of my lungs. Tears, though still flowing, weren't coming out in loud shrikes/sobs. I just watched in mortified horror as Gale's face contorted.

"Just a bit more you would have hit your artery. You're an idiot." He said it as if it was a plain fact, grimacing.

The dish towel a few feet from us was yanked from the cabinet handle and wrapped around the gash. It bled through a lot, but since it wasn't the main artery, we allowed ourselves to put it aside and deal with it later. But it was only until Gale put my wrapped hand back in my lap I realized how… awkward we were sitting. My knees were on either side of his lap, and we were facing each other. The tears staining our faces were all it took to dismiss the uncomfortable position.

In fact, I was just so mentally exhausted, I just flopped my head back onto Gale's chest and sniffled some more, aware of only the sturdy arms around me. I kind of w_as _an idiot. But it still hurt.

There was no rush getting up and moving, obviously. We stayed there on the kitchen floor, messy and emotional, for hours. Lunch was out of the question. Gale offered to get me something, but neither of us wanted to eat right then. I dozed off somewhere around four-thirty, half-awake so no nightmares haunted my mind.

It was at 9:00pm Gale woke me. He gently shook my arms, rousing me out of a light nap. "Come on, Katniss. It's getting pretty late."

Feeling like crap, I lifted my head up off him and half-sighed-half-groaned. I felt tired and filthy, completely wrecked by the past few days. I got helped upwards by Gale and was pulled over to the couch. But despite my fatigue, I couldn't sleep.

The shapes on the dark ceiling became my only companions, sitting still on the plaster like bugs. I wasn't cold wrapped in this giant comforter, but I felt…empty. Spending the day in Gale's arms had gotten me spoiled, and now I just felt even more sad and alone. The space around me felt empty and cool, void of any life whatsoever. If I closed my eyes, it was like I wasn't even there. Sensory deprivation overwhelmed me; I couldn't see anything, there was no warm _life _present, no breeze or flicker of light behind my eyelids. It was unfriendly and empty.

Feeling restless, I tossed the covers off and got up. My wrist, which had slowed its bleeding a bit ago, still throbbed, but I ignored it and went over to the window. With my good hand, I flicked the curtains back, staring at the scene outside.

It was a perfect view of a classic crescent moon, illuminating the east sides of droplets of water as they cascaded from the heavens, wetting everything in their path. My eyes, drunken with the lack of sleep, followed individual drops as they fell, and again.

I don't know how long I had been standing there. But I didn't even hear Gale's bedroom door open and him sneak up behind me. Then again, he was practically a ghost. Silent and graceful.

A hesitant hand reached up to brush my shoulder blade. "What are you doing up so late?"

I twitched in shock and turned around to look at him. "I'm asking you the same."

"Couldn't sleep." He joined me at the windowsill, leaning on it with his elbows. "I felt too empty."

_Ditto. _"Oh." Though he was looking away, I couldn't help but keep my eyes trained on his face. It was apparent he hadn't washed away the dried stains from his face, but no fresh ones covered.

Gale caught me looking. But instead of the usual 'what?' he stretched over a tentative finger to touch the top of my cheekbone.

I swallowed, trying not to flinch away from his touch.

He brought his hand back down. "You know, there's probably a solution to both of our insomnia."

I glanced up at him with sad eyes, not quite understanding. But when I felt the comforting pressure of Gale's fingers slipping around my hand, I let him guide me to his room, both half-asleep. And probably, if I _wasn't_, this probably would have been out of the question.

We both stretched out under the covers, blinking saltwater from our eyes. Not a single part of us were touching, but it felt good just feeling his body heat radiate from him, reassuring me I'm not alone in this people zoo, too warped to be anything but. My heart did a tiny little skip, and I felt tears bud.

When I turned my head to face him, I found Gale was staring at me as well, head turned mimicking mine. I opened my mouth to say something, but I was caught on how beautiful he was. In fact, even the thought surprised me. There was barely any light peeking in through the curtains, but what little managed cast heavy black shadows on Gale's face. All I could see was the familiar shape of his head, dark chasms of his eyes, and the sympathetic fullness of his lips.

I couldn't help myself. Swallowing, I scooted closer to him and buried my face in his chest. There was only a second of hesitation before Gale returned the shift with wrapping his arms around me. And suddenly, beneath the warmth and serenity of having Gale's being here to keep me together, I drifted off into an uneasy sleep.

**oOo**

_It's a Party!_

_When: right now_

_Where: right here_

_What: SOB-FEST!_

_I swear I was crying while writing this. My music choices played a major part in it. At the beginning, I was listening to "Let me Take you There" by Plain White T's. But when I got to the part when Peeta appeared, I was listening to (don't hurt me) Taylor Swift. I don't usually care for her music, but this song made me cry. I can't believe I just said that, but "Back to December" was playing while I was writing… "_If I could go back in time, I would have loved him from the start. No pain for him; he's had enough. I wanted to let him know how much he meant to be and how stupid I was for not seeing it. Every moment we spent together should have been real and precious, me telling him that I loved him." _Just listening to my sadsad Hunger Games playlist while doing this made me just… *sob* But anyways… REVIEW! REVIIIEEEWW! OR ELSSSEEE! _


	8. Chapter 8

_This is to EVVEERRRYOONNE who reviewed the last chapter! I know; it was a horrible prank to play. April fools is supposed to be a nice holiday. I think I just might have kicked the crap out of you guys by doing that, and I'm sorry. XDD _

**oOo**

To me, one of the best things in the world is having someone right next to you to share your body heat with, curl up against, knowing you'll be perfectly fine in the morning. I loved it, but I didn't get it. Having Gale was amazing, obviously, but there was no way I was going to let myself admit that. Those few seconds before I fell asleep next to him, just absorbing the feeling and smell of his skin brushed lightly against mine, the feeling of his cheek on my head… I loved it and missed it, but it I knew it wouldn't last.

I awoke to the face of Peeta, again printed on the insides of my eyelids. Except this time he wasn't smiling. It was like a movie being played slow-motion inn my head. Flashed of red and white flickered behind my lids and I watched as it unraveled. Peeta. Primrose. Finnick. Their deaths.

I watched as Finnick got devoured by lizard mutts, his face contorted in agony. Peeta was right next to me, arms around my waist, face in my hair as we watched the screen.

I watched fire blossom around me, licking around my skin like a rain shower, except blistering. Primrose was there in front of me, perfect, lovely face scorching black and gruesome in response to the fire now engulfing her. I screamed for her to run, to get away from the fire, but it was everywhere. And it was just a screen. Peeta and I watched as she fell to the ground, bloody and lifeless.

I watched Peeta. The first scene was horrible. A fan of blood stained the opposite wall and there was Peeta, hunched in the corner. His eyes were wide and afraid, but his body thrashed. Muted screams echoed in my mind, flowing from his open mouth. More red, needles of strange clear stuff injected into the pale flesh of his forearm. More screaming, terrified crying, pleading. I reached out to him but he dissolved.

The next scene was quiet. Not morbid or spine-chilling. He was asleep, peaceful and dreaming. But the quiet beeping of his heart monitor slowed down, slower and ever slower. Until it was a flat line; one continuous beep. Peeta remained still, but the spark was gone. _He _was gone. My Peeta. My boy with the bread. He was gone and there was no one to comfort _me. _

The screaming began low in my throat, choked and panicked, seeing Peeta lifeless like that. _I'm going to end up like that, too. _I was crying, attempting desperately to squirm away from the image branded in my eyes. He was not smiling, he was not _there. _He was gone, never again there to comfort me. I was alone, so alone…

My eyes shot open, awoken suddenly by my own terrified shouts. Sweat poured from my forehead and the back of my neck, muscles in my arms and legs twitching. It was dark in the room, completely dark. Still frightened, I scrambled into an upright position, petrified yells escaping my throat. _I am alone, I always will be… _

My back pressed against the headboard and I covered my mouth with my hands, images still in my head, tears still pouring down like cold autumn rain, shaking the slightest yellow leaves, making them fall from their perches in the sky. Delicate and beautiful, yet shattered so easily.

For a moment I was enveloped in darkness, but arms took me in from the side, careful and hesitant, but nonetheless strong. I immediately flinched away, but not off the bed. Somewhere in the room, a small lamp got flicked on and I was being stared at by Gale. His hair was messy and eyes still tired from sleep, but he was still alert past the mask.

I jammed my fists into my eyes, not caring about Gale, wanting the gory images to go away. But the screaming of my dead partner was still echoing around in the chasms of my skull, never slowing, never ending.

Gale looked concerned, and slightly awkward, but he still held me. "You're safe, Katniss. I won't let anyone hurt you."

I coughed, feeling my throat scraped raw, and I did nothing. Not leaned towards him or away. The images were easing up now, but seeing the tortured faces of my old friends and family still haunted me. I was supposed to die, too. I wasn't supposed to be alive. Now, I just shivered next to Gale, haunting my every night. He was the only one left. Primrose died, Mother abandoned me _because_ she died, Peeta died. Everyone's dead.

"_What the hell is wrong with my life?_" I screamed, tossing off the covers and getting up, knocking aside Gale's arms.

He stood up, too. He was cautious, as if my sanity was a delicate thing. Or…what's left of it. "What's wrong?"

I clutched my head in my hands, feeling the bite of my wrist wound, only wishing it hurt more. My eyes were slivers of ice. "Everyone's dead, or abandoned me. _I _am supposed to be dead! You think there's a reason?" Now I turned to Gale, furious for him not understanding. Tears made tracks down my face. "I am not supposed to be alive. Coins tried to make that possible. There was a _reason. _Maybe because I was—" A choked sob escaped my lips and I swallowed it, on the brink of losing my mind. "I'm too broken to be of any use. No one can use me anymore, I'm of no use. I have nobody. I'm gone, just a shell. Maybe a year or two I would have been better, but now…" Air was rasping in and out of my lungs, but both of us were motionless. "Now I am just what's left of Katniss Everdeen. Alone, done for, and empty. No one wants someone who is broken beyond repair."

The world was immobile and silent. I could have sworn even the birds outside had stopped chirping.

My chest heaved in and out, and I was suddenly exhausted. My legs buckled and Gale caught me in his arms before I hit the floor. I hid my face in his chest, but I didn't cry. It was like being in the eye of a hurricane. The very worst part of the storm, the very center, was still and quiet. I just pressed myself to his familiar, woodsy-scented body, wanting to disappear, melt into oblivion. If only the wrist injury had gone a little deeper…

Gale locked his arms around me protectively and put his cheek to the top of my head. There was still a bit of hesitance in the way he held himself, but that didn't stop me from squeezing myself into him, wanting to crumble away like dust. At least dust feels no pain. What I'm feeling now is raw, and real inside my chest like fire, eating away my every being. And I needed someone to help me hold it together. I wasn't strong enough by myself. And Gale, no matter how precious he is to me, only reminded me of Prims' death and the first time we talked after she died.

With a shaking breath, I pulled, not unkindly, away from Gale's strong arms and stood up. My breath was wheezing in and out of my lungs, and with only one last look at the familiar grey eyes that had gotten up with me, I turned around and walked briskly out.

Believe it or not, this was one of the only times I hadn't intended to run away. I just collapsed onto the porch steps and put my head in my hands, crying softly. Not the really loud crying that signified horror and depression. But more like crying frustrated beyond belief; too tired and shattered to do anything but. Like I had thought, Gale materialized at the open screen door.

"Just leave me alone, Gale." I begged him, wanting only to be alone enough to compose myself. "Leave me alone." Cold tears managed to find their ways in the cracks of my fingers, following gravity down my wrists.

He said nothing, but I heard the screen door close again, and I knew he obeyed. That's the difference between him and…other people. It made me appreciate his company a lot more, actually getting time to myself to think things out.

There wasn't really much _to_ think out, though. My chest ached for comfort, but none came. There was nothing to make me feel better. What was there to live for besides Haymitch and his demon-geese? Well…there was Gale, certainly. But every time I felt him just _near_ me, it was like getting smacked in the chest by a 2x4 with a nail driven into the end.

He was the biggest reminder of what I had. He was my first friend, whom I've always trusted (well, sort of). He was there at the beginning, in the middle, and here with me still at the end. We've been through all of this together, yet I can't find myself ridding the nightmares tormenting my sleep every night. Because he was still there, still reminding me of all the pain I'd endured, and am enduring.

Taking a deep breath, I sat up straighter. I had three choices: go back to District 12, forget about Gale, and go on being as depressed and as lonely as ever; stay with Gale and let him help me, hoping I would get over the whole reminder-thing; or death. I had chosen that last one yesterday, but that didn't work out so well. The only thing I'd gotten was an evil look from Gale and a stinging wrist. And despite what I felt on the outside, I really _didn't_ want to go back to District 12. Being lonely and sad forever was a lot worse than dying.

Realizing my last and only choice, I attempted to rack my brains for more options, but none coming. Great. I was stuck with Gale. It's not like I hated him or anything…it just hurt. All of those options involved pain, so I guess it's inescapable. But I had already chosen one, and having Gale to help me through the pain that will happen, and _is_ happening, should be better than nothing.

Funnily enough, the thought of having his arms around me comforted me somewhat and, feeling better than I had a few minutes ago, I stood up. My legs were still somewhat weak from crying, but I managed to walk back inside.

Gale was sitting hunched on the couch, brooding with his calloused fingers laced under her chin in thought. When I slumped in and slammed the screen door loudly behind me, he looked up. Shock raised his eyebrows. It was obvious he hadn't expected me to return, soon or at all.

He stood up, wordlessly, but remained unsure what to say. There wasn't really anything for me to say as well, so I just kept my head low, but eyes upon him. Suddenly, somewhere deep in my mind, something switched and I realized how..._beautiful _he was. I wasn't sure what one thing made me stop and stare, but there was definitely something. Maybe the way he held his well-built body, strong but unsure. Maybe it was the way he allowed his hair to hang just barely in front of his eyes, exposing only the glint in his grey eyes. Maybe it was the silence he held, dark and intimidating, yet oddly comforting.

Being observant as ever, Gale noticed me staring. He twitched his eyebrows up a millimeter. "Yes?"

I opened my mouth to say something, but no words came to me. My mouth shut just as abruptly as it opened and I felt something stinging my eyes. I didn't reach up to wipe them away.

Tenacious grey eyes crinkled worriedly as Gale stepped towards me. His arms outstretched hesitantly a tiny bit, but that's as far as he went. But there was no need to go any further.

I dragged myself forwards and leaned into his chest, not even bothering to put my arms around him. Just slumped over, wanting so desperately to feel the warmth that once came from familiar arms when I needed comfort. I was lifted off the ground by strong arms and Gale carried me over to the couch. He sat down, with me still slumped into his chest, and shifted me in his lap. As I felt the never wavering heart beat of my best friend under me, and the arms cradling me to his body, I decided that I haven't felt this safe in over a year, maybe two. Or longer.

Nothing in him suggested anything but strength and comfort. He didn't push that whole "romance" thing, or even kissed the top of my head like I was so used to when I had breakdowns like these. I had to admit I wanted that kind of security, but this right here was more than enough. More than I could ever ask of anyone.

We sat like that for a while, silent and careful, curled in each others' arms. I don't know how long of time later, or exactly what time it was, but Gale unglued his cheek from the top of my head. "Do you want breakfast?"

I forced myself to sit up as well. There was a crick in my neck, and I rubbed my eyes. "No food right now."

"Okay."

There was a slightly awkward pause, where the awkwardness of the moment set in a bit deeper. I cleared my throat.

"Actually, I think I may want to go into town again today." I said boldly, shifting off of Gale's lap.

"Are you sure? Do you feel well enough?" Gale looked at me worriedly. "You aren't going to…?"

"Try and kill myself again?" I finished the sentence for him, feeling slightly ashamed and somewhat embarrassed. "I'll try not. But if we can avoid that Actiecia girl today, the feat would be easier."

His mouth twitched into a charming smile. "Long story goes along with her. Avoiding her would be best." He stood up stiffly and offered his hand down to me.

I accepted his warm hand and thought, for the first time in forever, that I didn't want to let go.

**oOo**

_Awww… Actually, this chapter was originally going to be longer than it is NOW, but ah well. I didn't feel like typing out another three pages worth of walking through town. GUESS WHAT, MY HOMIES? REVIIIEEEWW!_


	9. Chapter 9

_I'm pretty sorry about the wait. There's really no excuse, except for writers block. But what surprises me is that, even though I haven't updated in forever, I'm still getting reviews. Maybe once a week, but still. It makes me feel guilty, how you guys aren't giving up o me quite yet. ;) So thank you, and I'll try to be better. _

**oOo**

That night I slept soundly, strangely unperturbed by nightmares. When I opened my eyes the next morning, it took me a few seconds to register where I was. _Gale's bed_. Should this have been awkward? I wasn't too sure what to think of it. Pulling in a quiet yawn, I shifted into a sitting position and rubber my eyes. When I brought my hands back down, I suddenly frowned. Gale wasn't next to me. Meh. He probably was fixing breakfast.

A little routine seemed to have set itself up here, oddly enough. Well, less of a routine and more of what to expect. If I woke up and Gale wasn't in his bed, he was cooking. If he wasn't cooking, he was taking a shower. He never left the house without my permission or accompaniment. It was strange, but it was one real thing to grasp, if any. I wasn't sure whether to feel guilty about being a burden, or grateful that Gale was _letting_ me be a burden, or upset that I was considering myself a burden.

Anyways, I dragged myself up and out of bed, only taking a brief moment to peer into the mirror. I looked like crap. Shrugging this away, I forced my feet to carry me into the kitchen (that was also routine). Before I left the room, however, the clock on the wall caught my eye. 9:00. Jeez, I slept late nowadays.

As expected, Gale was in there, already dressed and ready for the day. When I entered the kitchen, he turned his head back to me and the corners of his mouth twitched into an attempted smile. "You slept a while. Are you hungry?" Gale turned off the stove burner and set a plate of pancakes on the table. I had yet to learn exactly why he had turned into a good cook on such a short notice, but I didn't question it.

We sat down and, with a plate of food in front of me, I picked at my pancake. It was covered with colorful strawberry jam, and a dollop of butter in the middle. It was pretty, at least, but I was mangling it with my fork. Feeling Gale's gaze on me, I glanced up. I was right, he _was_ looking at me.

"Aren't you going to eat anything?" He asked, absentmindedly tapping his glass of milk with a fingernail.

My head ran through several excuses, but, exhausted and defeated, I began eating, slowly. We had already concluded starving myself to death wasn't an option. And I wasn't exactly feeling like I was a few days ago. It was less of suicidal leanings, more of a hollow yearning. I didn't want to die; I wanted to _not want to_, if that makes any sense.

After finishing breakfast, Gale proposed I helped him with the dishes. It wasn't a lot, but I agreed. Though, while scrubbing plates and such, I realized he made sure not to give me any knives to wash.

"So," Gale put up the last dried dish and turned to me with the usual sympathetic, brooding face on. "What are you up to doing today?"

I wrinkled my nose and shrugged, feeling my eyes droop slightly. "Sleeping?"

Did I detect a hint of disappointment in Gale's eyes?

"You can go back to sleep, Katniss." He wiped his hands off on a dishtowel. "I'll just be cleaning the rabbits we got yesterday."

In town, since there was no longer a ban on hunting out of your district's town limits, we had bought four rabbits from a young hunter. Of course, we didn't plan to eat all of them tonight. Maybe two, and the rest he plans on drying.

"I'll help." I offered, surprising even myself. But once the shocked effect wore off, I blinked tiredly and looked around, expecting to see rabbit carcasses somewhere.

"Okay. Thank you." Gale's face turned anxious for a second, then back to normal and he went to go open the fridge. It seemed as though he was trying his best to act as though nothing was wrong with me, not giving me any more sympathy than necessary. He knows me well. Because if he _did_ give me that much more sympathy, I would probably chew his arms off in his sleep.

I hadn't cleaned a rabbit in for_ever. _About a year, if I was correct. So when Gale handed me a rabbit (cold from the refrigerator) and a knife (to my surprise as well), I paused. My mind automatically ran over exactly how to skin and gut an animal, but I still hesitated. There were chinks in my mind's instructions.

Gale noticed my hesitating. He stopped skinning his rabbit and frowned at me."Are you okay, Katniss?"

I set down my knife and leaned forwards on the countertop, scowling down at the limp animal. "I don't know… Something feels off."

He made a face, somewhere between sympathy and amusement. "Did you forget how to skin a rabbit?"

"I—_no._ No, I remember." I said defensively, shrinking away. But when I poised the blade once again over the dirty white skin of our future dinner, I _still_ couldn't think of exactly what to do. It was horrible, I couldn't remember _ever_ doing. Well, yeah I could, but only just. I had forgotten what it was like. It's like there was no more Katniss Everdeen.

"Here, Kat—" Gale reached over and tried to help, but I shrank away.

"No! No, I can—I can do it." I sniffed and wiped away a tear that had tauntingly escaped my eye.

Gale shook his head at me, but went back to cutting his own rabbit.

It was a tedious process, cleaning animals. There was the skinning the really tough hide without damaging the meat, slicing the middle carefully and cleaning out the organs, picking out the unnecessary bones. And seeing as how I was unsure of every step I did, it took me twice as long as Gale to finish a rabbit. But even though that was true, he still let me do two like him.

Gale and I were working hard for a few hours at this, only pausing briefly to have a piece of fruit for a small lunch. At three in the afternoon, all four of the rabbits were skinned, gutted, cleaned, and laying in a perfect row on the plastic-covered countertop. Thankfully, mine didn't look like a wild animal had gotten them first. I couldn't help but feel a little proud. Our hands were halfway up to our elbows with slick red blood, and it had almost splattered a drop or two on our clothes. And honestly, I'd have to say we were lucky he thought of putting down a sheet of plastic before cutting, because it was a huge mess.

Gale wiped his elbow on his cheek, ridding a stray overgrown hair. "Do you want to take a small break for some food before starting on the stew?"

I had to admit it felt genuinely good to be doing this again. Being covered in rabbit gore never felt so good. I chewed on the inside of my cheek and nodded once. "Okay."

I used the sink first, and scrubbed hard with a tremendous amount of blue soap to get all the crust maroon stuff off my skin and out from under my nails. When it was all finally off, I tried to wipe some of the blood off the T-shirt I slept in. After a second, I realized the attempt was futile and stopped. Gale washed up and made us some sandwiches, which I gratefully munched on at the table.

We were silent for a few minutes, eating slowly, enjoying the familiarity of spending time like this together. It was only until now I'd realized exactly how much I had missed it. And apparently, Gale had missed it, too.

He smiled at me over his mostly-eaten sandwich. "I had forgotten how good you look covered in rabbit blood."

I felt the blood rush into my cheeks and I stared at the table, unable to meet his eyes and smile back. I was still too confused for figuring any of _that_ side of our relationship out.

"Well," Gale's voice seemed slightly amused, but I guess I did hear a tiny bit of embarrassment, too. "You look excellent without blood, too. I mean…" He made a noise and stayed quiet after that.

I wanted to smile. But I didn't.

After we finished eating, Gale and I started working on the stew for dinner. We mashed potatoes and meat, boiled carrots and broth. It was a tedious process, making stew, but time-consuming. It kept me busy, free to try and work out exactly what was going on. By the time five-thirty hit, I still had no idea.

"Thanks," Gale scooped up the chives I had chopped up and dropped them into the pot of now delicious-smelling stew. There were all sorts of vegetables, the rabbit, rabbit broth, herbs and everything. It filled the entire house with a homey scent, making me feel sort of…happy.

It simmered for a bit, and at six-thirty, we sat down to eat. Some salty crackers were served with it and, for the first time in a while, I felt at home. Sitting there with Gale at the dinner table, finally eating what we had slaved over for many hours today. It held a sense of accomplishment, something I had lacked for months. A few minutes into eating, Gale put down his spoon and folded his hands in front of him.

I frowned, glancing up slightly. "What?"

He sighed and shook his head, a tiny smile following. "Nothing. I just enjoy being like this together again. I hate how the…whole ordeal before kind of ruined things between us."

I shrugged, looking back down at my stew. "We can't change anything."

"I know that, it's just…" Gale made a face, and then cast his eyes behind me in thought. "You've been throttled so much in the past few years, ever since the day of the reaping. It's not fair, something like that happening to you when you were just…just protecting your little sister."

A small lump formed in my throat, and I swallowed it down hastily. "_Life's_ not fair."

"That doesn't mean it has to be cruel." He rubbed his finger on his temple, as if getting a headache. Dark brows furrowed above his pensive eyes. "I've witnessed so much happen, but a year after it all ended, it seems almost like the ending of a horror movie. It doesn't seem like it happened…"

"It happened, trust me." Part of my brain scolded me for acting incredibly upset. I _was_ upset, but it was hard to pin exactly why. "Mother's disowned me, Peeta's gone, and P-Prim's…Prim's…" I resisted the urge to slam my head on the table, crying. It was excruciatingly hard keeping the hot tears from spilling from my eyes, but I managed.

There was a long stretch of silence, and at the end, Gale lifted his head up. His eyes were shining, too, and looked distressed and guilty. "Katniss, there's….there's something I need to…to tell you."

I lifted my eyes to look at him, not necessarily interested, but aware.

He paused for a few minutes, looking more and more horrified by the second. "In the Capitol… In the room you were put in… After everything had-had happened… Do you…remember that? What we said?"

My brain automatically wheeled back to over a year ago and tried to focus on the exactly day he was talking about. I remembered when, but the details were blurry. "…Not really."

"We were talking a-about your sister." Gale closed his eyes for a second, as if in a great deal of pain. Briefly, his knuckles turned white, clenched on the table, but then they relaxed. "Do you remember what I said?"

Everything suddenly became clearer. Yeah, I remember it was about Prim. About…what killed her. There were a lot of negative thoughts that day. Obviously. Gently and slowly, I felt separate words of the conversation float back to me.

"I lied."

My head snapped up. "What?" The blur settled back on the memory, and I was confused again.

"I lied." Gale repeated, rubbing his eyes with the balls of his palm. "I said…I said… The hovercraft, the hovercraft that killed her. Them. I said it wasn't mine."

Reality crashed down on me like a wave, things slid into places like jigsaw pieces and immediately I got a massive headache. "They weren't yours, Gale." I whispered through a hoarse throat. "You-you said the hovercraft wasn't yours. You said, Gale."

The hand rested beside his glass of water began trembling. "I lied."

Things run through my head in slow motion. "It was yours. They were yours. You lied…" Gale started reaching out towards me, but I scrambled up, sending the chair flying backwards. "You _lied_! It was yours, you _killed_ Prim, it was you!"

"Katniss," Gale stood up, too, and still tried to reach out to me. "Katniss, please, I had no idea—"

"You killed her!" I yelled, hands balled into fists. A dull roar started in my head the same time the tears did. He _killed_ my little sister, I'll never see her again because of _him_. "It's your fault! You _killed_ her, you killed Prim! It was _your_ hovercraft, you _lied_!"

"Katniss," Gale repeated my name, and I could see his face twisted in agony, too. He managed to get close enough to me to wrap his fingers tightly around my wrists. I struggled, but his grip was unyielding. "Katniss, listen to me, I didn't know what I was doing!"

"Oh, _sure_." I hissed through my tears, still trying to tug my hands from his. "They drugged you or knocked you out, pretending it was you who didn't drop the bombs. It was _you_, Gale, _you_. It was you…" I fumbled over my words until tears drowned them out. My knees gave way and I tripped, half-falling onto my knees in front of Gale. "Primrose…" Sobs were now coming in full-stream now, distorting everything I said. The only thing that held me up was Gale's fingers still curled around my wrists.

Gale used that pause of my screaming to fall down on the floor with me and hold my face in his hands, no matter how hard I tried to turn my wet face away from him. "I didn't kill her Katniss, I would never do that." His voice was only barely audible, whispered through my tears. "I would never do anything to hurt you, I promise. It was an accident, I was only in the hovercraft, I didn't release the bombs or see her down there. I didn't know I was hurting her. I'm sorry, Katniss, I'm sorry I hurt you."

I wasn't sure whether or not to believe, or even _trust_ him. All I knew was that I was falling apart, piece by piece. I didn't even know Gale had his arms around me by the time I'd opened my eyes and took a ragged breath. He had me held awkwardly to his chest, me half-on-half-off his legs, which were carelessly folded. He was whispering something in my ear, though most of the words caught and held. Only one did.

"Katniss…" Gale's thumb ran along my cheekbone, brushing away some hair. His face was buried in my hair, wiry arms pinning my own to my sides.

I didn't know how long we sat there on the kitchen floor (seemed to be a popular spot nowadays), but I remember feeling Gale pick me up and carry me to bed. I felt like I weighed five-hundred pounds, arms and legs dead weights. Immediately after my head hit the pillow, I was thrust almost violently into sleep, guaranteed to be ridden with nightmares. Nightmares of my little sister and the bombs that dropped, before the entire world was engulfed by fire and tears.

**oOo**

_That took surprisingly long to write. But at least it's out! Hope you guys liked it, and I most certainly hope the next one will come faster. It's funny, I'm writing one story (Dropping Your Heart-collaboration with Mancpotter) that is completely anti-Gale, but this one is 100% Team Gale. Funny… But anyways, please please PLEASE review, guys! You know you waaaannnt toooo. _


	10. Chapter 10

_HORAAAAYYYY! This is to all of my readers who believed in me, and didn't give up on this story even when I had. _

**oOo**

I woke as I normally did—to a nightmare. It was the kind that doesn't seem so scary when you think about it afterwards, but during it, your blood curdles and your heart screams inside your chest. It froze me in place, and when I woke up, every part of me was drenched in sweat and my muscles had seized. Though I couldn't remember the dream perfectly, its feeling was still there, so alive, so _real_…

Shivering, I wiped my hands down my face and opened my eyes. Gale wasn't in the bed next to me, which was okay. Having to explain my nightmare to him was the last thing I felt like doing. I didn't really care where he was, but not in a malicious way. It just…didn't matter to me that much.

The blankets were tossed off me and I slid my legs off of the bed. The bathroom appeared to be unoccupied, so I grabbed some of my clothes and dragged my frozen body into there to change. Prim was in my mind as I pulled off my pajamas. Her sweet, lovely face melting in terrible poisoned fire. I didn't like lingering on the memory that long, so I just turned my back to the mirror and finished changing.

The nightmare was still fresh in my mind when I went back into the bedroom. Though I didn't mean to, I caught my own eye in the mirror hanging next to the wardrobe. I looked awful, as usual. Circles were under my eyes and my hair was flyaway, a morose sag to my cheeks completing the corpse look. I hated looking at myself, but I couldn't tear my gaze away. Maybe I was getting better. The blue circles were darker a few days ago, weren't they? My shoulders were a little straighter, weren't they? If I waited a little longer, would I get all the way better? A year? Two? Ten? Probably not. Nothing could fill in the empty space the people I loved left.

I was so preoccupied with my own thoughts; it surprised me when Gale's face materialized behind me in the mirror. His eyebrows were slanted sadly as he gazed down at me. I looked back at him. I couldn't help but feel my own eyes sagging with grief, but it was muted with Gale next to me. He was like a campfire in the cold of night, warming the one side of me he was on.

Struggling for more warmth, I leaned back into his chest and closed my eyes, forcing the lump in my throat to go back down. What I didn't see was Gale's eyebrows arch in surprise, but I felt the tiny jump in his chest. He didn't expect me to do that, I knew, but he didn't pull away. Instead, I felt his fingers curl around mine and he leaned his face closer, not quite resting his chin on my shoulder. When I opened my eyes and looked at him, I almost felt content. He looked sweet right there, face so calm and void of harsh emotions or sorrow. My head was turned towards his and I could feel his soft breath on my cheek, but he still kept his eyes closed.

Without really thinking about it, I leaned in the extra few inches and pressed my lips to his. Gale's eyes fluttered open and he blinked at me when I pulled away. There wasn't anything for me to say, though. I turned away sadly and let go of his hands to walk out of the bedroom, leaving his surprised expression behind me.

Breakfast was surprisingly good, even if the atmosphere was less than settling. As we wordlessly ate, I couldn't help but feel Gale look up at me every now and then. Once, I even caught his eyes and he offered me a small smile, which I didn't succeed returning. Feeling heat just barely touch my cheeks, I looked back down at my bacon and poke it, appetite vanishing.

Why does he have to look at me like that when I'm so confused? He treats me like I'm the only one who matters here… How come he lets me be so selfish and mean? How come I _am_ selfish and mean? Why couldn't I act better? He's giving up his life here to spend time with me. The least I could do is be nicer to him. Or at least…not the way I was acting.

I actually made an attempt for the rest of the day. Gale and I walked into town in the morning and had lunch there, like we did before. Every now and then, he'd lean over and grip my hand, but lean back away and go back to whatever he was talking about. I listened, not saying much at all. The words went in one ear and out of the other, though it wasn't intended meanly.

After lunch, Gale claimed he didn't have anything much to do, so we laid in his backyard.

"What do you plan on doing once you go back home?" he asked after a long moment of silence, twisting a bit of grass in his fingers.

I opened my eyes and turned my head to look at him and the curious tilt of his head. "…I don't know."

I really didn't feel like thinking about that, but I was forced to. What _would_ I do? Hunt, definitely. Maybe spend more time with Haymitch. But what kind of life was that? Living but not really living. To be honest, I was almost enjoying myself here. Not exactly _enjoying_, but at least I had something to do, to get my mind off of things. Gale was my best friend. I loved him, despite everything.

"I'm sorry." His voice brought my eyes back onto his. He looked guilty. "I didn't mean to upset you."

_You never do, Gale, I understand._ I looked back up at the sky. "It's alright. I just…really _don't_ know."

Gale bit his lip visibly, as if considering whether it was worth saying what he wanted to. "…If you want, my offer still stands."

"What offer?" A feather of confusion marked a crease in between my eyebrows.

"Stay with me," he whispered, rolling onto his side to face me. "I'll take care of you. We can hunt together. I won't force you to be anything other than a friend. I just…" Gale swallowed and bit his lip again. "...I just want to take care of you. It hurts seeing you in so much pain, Katniss. I want to help you. I want to fix you."

A lump formed again in my throat. "I can't be fixed, you know that. I'd be horrible for morale, sulking around all the time."

"That's why I want to help you." Gale propped an elbow underneath him and touched my wrist with a finger. "I still care about you. I won't let you go back home and be alone. At least you have a chance to get better with me."

"I'm sorry." I shook my head, blinking away a sneaky tear in each eye. I slid my fingers around his and gripped his hand, but only because guilt rode my back. "I have to go back home. I don't belong here, but don't worry about me."

His mouth turned down in a sad frown.

"I'll manage alone. I have before."

A long sigh was drawn from Gale's chest and he let go of my hand, not unkindly. "Then come on. Let's fix a dinner and pack it up. I have some place to show you."

Now it was my turn to frown, but in confusion. For a moment I forgot about how sad I was. "Where?"

He smiled a tiny smile, seemingly glad he got me interested, or at least caring about something. Standing up, Gale offered his hand down to me and helped me up. "It wouldn't be a surprise then, would it?"

"Are you alright so far?" Gale asked for the third time this hour.

We were trudging through the forest, side-by-side, dodging branches and holding silence between us to a place where I wasn't so sure, but Gale seemed positive of.

Knocking away a small sapling, I shrugged. "Yeah." Another pregnant pause followed, more awkward than the silence before. "Where is this place?"

"Just up there," he pointed ahead of us. "Maybe another fifty meters or so."

The fifty meters he guessed came a lot faster than I'd thought. We slowed our paces and Gale stepped to shoulder his way into a dense section of undergrowth. After nearly tripping over a tree root, I looked up and let an astonished puff of air leave my lips.

We were in a birch grove. Sunlight twinkled off of the leaves, dancing shapes across the mossy ground and illuminating all the colors. Shades of green up high, milky white from the peeling bark, the bluest of blue shining like stars on the tiny lake to our right. It was so warm and beautiful… I wasn't sure what to do other than stare.

"I go here a lot. The hunting and fishing are good," Gale said, interrupting my stunned reverie. He plucked a leaf from the nearest birch tree and rolled it between two fingers. "Do you like it?"

"It's…incredible." Tearing my eyes away from all of the colors, I gave my friend a look that I put all my honesty into. "Really."

The pride swelling in his chest was visible. "Here," Gale held out his hand and I took it unsurely. "Come see this." He took me gently around the edge of the pond and sat us down on a fallen tree, overgrown with moss and vines.

I followed his pointing finger and saw a tangled mess of branches clumped in between a fork in one of the trees across the lake.

"A bird lives in that nest. It has two eggs." He blinked with a peculiar look on, gazing out across the water. "I didn't have the heart to eat them, since I don't absolutely have to, so I've been watching them."

Though I didn't see any bird nearby, it was easy to believe. Head buzzing mutely, I dropped my eyes from the nest and bent down to peel my shoes off. The water felt cool and still as I slipped my toes into it, and I swished my feet around.

Gale watched me with a fond smile touching his mouth. He copied my actions by taking off his shoes and putting his feet into the water as well.

We sat like that for a while. Animals chattered all around us, rustling the leaves and slipping under tree roots and splashing in the shallow water. The both of us were absolutely silent, absorbing everything. Even I had to admit, I was content for the first time in a long while. It felt like magic, trailing from my toes up to my chest, a sense of ease and comfort. I didn't let Peeta or Prim or Finnick into my thoughts at all; just me and Gale and the sapphire lake nestled in our grove of birch trees. The sun drizzled rays of gold into our hair as it slipped closer and closer to the horizon.

An unfamiliar feeling of fuzziness spread inside my throat. My eyebrows furrowed subconsciously as I glanced over at Gale. He knew that he'd succeeded in softening me; I could tell by the light in his eyes. I did my best to smile at him, but it just wouldn't reach my eyes. It wouldn't even reach my mouth.

Gale caught me off guard by leaning over shyly and kissing me on the forehead.

Slowly, I could feel my smile turn from fake to real. Gale saw, too, because he reached over to pull me into a hug. I couldn't remember the last time I'd _really_ smiled, and it seemed to move something inside of me. Though I didn't know exactly what it was, both Gale and I knew something changed just then.

"Still thinking about leaving me?" he whispered, moving a small piece of hair from in front of my ear.

The smile left as quick as it came. I caught my lower lip between my teeth and made a face, pulling away from his arms. "…I don't know, Gale."

"You say you're unfixable, but I _saw_ that." Gale looked triumphant, despite my hesitant answer. "I _saw_ that smile. Don't pretend it wasn't there."

I furrowed my brows and looked away. From in the purple of the sky, I could see a tiny star. "Just because… That doesn't really change everything. I don't even know why…"

"Does it matter why?"

From the corner of my eye, I could see him stand up from the log beside me and stretch out on the ground. I carefully scooted over to the other end and peered down, eyebrows still creased uncertainly. He motioned for me to come down as well, so I did, carefully laying my head down on the moss next to him.

Neither of us said anything for a while. We watched the evening stars rise with the moon, and let all the daylight be sapped from the trees so as where the only things we could see save the lights in the sky were our own silhouettes and the reflections in the lake. It was quiet, mostly. Cicadas hummed softly in the trees and fireflies blinked tantalizingly between trees, but all of the animals were settled down and asleep.

I wasn't sure how long it had been—perhaps an hour, I wasn't certain—but I felt sleepiness creep up on me. It was only until I was on the verge of unconsciousness when I realized how tired I was. Letting out a drowsy sigh, I flopped my head over onto Gale's shoulder, and before I even heard what he had to say, I was asleep.

**oOo**

__


	11. Chapter 11

_This is it! Wish me luck, everyone! It's going to be a little short, and most likely FAST, so apologies if you don't like it._

_My GOD. Please, if you know what's good for you, go to YouTube and search Let Me Take You There by the Plain White T's. Really. Your heart will never be the same. _

"_I know a place where we can hide out_

_And turn our hearts inside out,_

_No one would know who we are…_

_Let me take you there"_

**oOo**

The next day I woke in Gale's arms as I had the last. They kept away my nightmares, oddly enough, but when I realized what that day was, I wondered why I _hadn't_ had bad dreams. This was my last day in District 2.

Trying not to be too incredibly upset, I scooted out of bed and shuffled over to the closet as Gale woke.

He rolled out of bed and squinted at me through his dark eyelashes as I began taking all of my belongings from his room. We hadn't discussed my stay after yesterday's picnic. There was nothing _to_ discuss. But the quicker I left the better, so I didn't have time to change my mind.

After shoving all of my stuff into a bag and setting it on the couch, Gale and I met in the kitchen to work on breakfast.

"What time are you thinking of…of leaving?" Gale asked while stirring bitter-smelling coffee.

Unable to think too deeply of that subject, I just shrugged and took a bite of porridge.

"Are you going to talk to me at all today?"

It wasn't a mean question, nor particularly resentful.

I let out a loud sigh and rubbed my eyes. "Yes, Gale. I am. I just have nothing to say."

Silence for a minute.

"…No goodbye?"

That kind of startled me. I put down my spoon and furrowed my brows at Gale through my loose hair. "I thought we were going to walk to the station together. I'll say goodbye then."

I had to admit, things were a little stiff between us. Even after the talk we had yesterday… _Especially_ after the talk, my feelings for him had changed drastically. Not like you'd think, though. Things went from me not knowing how I felt to _really_ not knowing how I felt and questioning whether or not I loved him.

I loved Peeta.

But he was dead.

Did that matter? Would he care if I loved someone else so soon after his death? Though what we had was special and beautiful, maybe Gale was better for me than Peeta was.

After breakfast, I zipped up my jacket and put on my hat, and as we walked outside (a backpack slung over my shoulders), I realized it had begun raining again. It did that a lot, I realized, letting cold water shower down from the sky, drenching everything in sight.

The second I stepped off of the porch the rain plastered my hair to my forehead and dragged my clothes downwards with its weight.

"Are you going to be okay?" Gale asked, speaking loudly over the sound of shattering water droplets. "In the rain, I mean. I have an umbrella inside if you n—"

"I'm alright," I reassured him, and slung my bag over my shoulder again to slog onwards down the road.

That mile seemed like the longest mile of my life. Through the rain, everything around me a monotone grey to fit the mood, side-by-side with Gale, who looked like he wanted nothing more than for me to stay. It hurt so badly.

As we walked, I recapped in my head the ten days we'd spent together. I saw Gale's smile every time I showed some sign of hope, however rare. I saw him biting his lip whenever he reached out to touch my face.

Swallowing with an attempt to quell the pain rising in my chest, I glanced over at Gale. When he caught me staring and looked back, a small, sad smile reached his lips and he held it for just a second before we stopped at the booth selling train tickets.

"Destination?" quipped the knobby boy holding tickets.

Still fighting sorrow, I spoke past the lump in my throat. "District Twelve," I said quietly, and the boy nodded his head, giving me the tiny slip of paper.

"Train leaves in fifteen minutes," He shook rain out of his hair. "Only one ticket, miss?"

"Yes, thank you."

Feeling my eyes stinging—and not because of the rain—I stuffed the paper into my pocket.

It was impossible to look Gale in the eyes. I knew that he was holding back pleads for me to stay. I was ready to plead _myself_, but I did my best to not change my mind. _I can't stay_, I told myself. _I__t's not even an option_.

"I'm boarding early," I told Gale, voice full of tears and upset. "I-I'll see you another day."

Gale frowned deeply and shook his head, obvious grief in those begging gray eyes. "Please…Please, Katniss. Just a little longer."

I shook my head wildly. "I can't. I'm sorry."

I couldn't bear to see his face anymore, so I hiked the pack up between my shoulder blades and left, clapping my hand over my mouth so my sobs could be muffled.

The train was dry and warm, but stuffy. People shuffled by, mumbling amongst themselves. They paid no attention to me, surprisingly, but the second the door closed behind me I felt lonely. Warmth from the cab was nice, but nothing compared to having a pair of arms around you. Was I selfish for wanting to stay? Was I selfish for wanting, because I only missed him for my own purposes? I didn't know if I loved him, but I did at the same time.

If I tried, could I?

The train let out a hiss that sounded a little like the rain and I lurched a little as it began chugging forwards slowly. Out of the window I saw Gale, a black, blurry form way down the road. Drenched in rain and shoulders hunched, the tiny figure turned and began growing smaller as we parted.

Between one second of watching him and setting my backpack on the ground, he was there talking to me and holding me again. Immediately, I regretted my decision.

How come I was leaving him? No one wanted me back at home. My family had given up, the primroses were dying, Haymitch took Peeta's death as a reason to drink himself into even more of an oblivion. No one was waiting for me. Except Gale.

H was there for me, he helped me.

He stood by my side when I cried.

He didn't stay angry at me when I had a meltdown.

He tucked me in at night when I was lonely.

He let me sleep in his _bed_ with him when I was lonely.

He held my hand when I wanted him to, and respected my space when I didn't.

He loved me for who I was and not who I hated myself for being.

That in itself was reason enough to stay. After being so broken, I was practically unlovable, but somehow this man continued. He'd never given up on me.

Yet I'd given up on him.

Faster than I thought possible, I slammed open the sliding doors form the train and sprinted down the aisles. My legs pumped back and forth as I crashed into people, stumbling past, not bothering to even mutter an apology.

I ran into a train attendant bolting up a door on the side and I shoved him away.

"Miss, you can't exit when the train is moving. Y—" he started to say, but I kicked the door open and stumbled out.

Thankfully, the train wasn't moving too fast when I got out. I tripped and tumbled into a puddle, soaking what little of my body that hadn't been soaked already. Furiously swiping the water from my eyes, I stood and began stumbling back in the direction of the platform fifty feet away. My feet made slapping sounds against the pavement as I stumbled.

By then, I could barely see Gale. Rain poured like static on a TV screen, making visibility very limited, but I ran as fast as I ever had. My heart leapt into my throat and my head was screaming "_WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?" _but my mouth was yelling, "GALE!"

The blurry, near-invisible figure of Gale paused and turned right as I launched myself into his arms.

Our wet bodies collided almost painfully. My arms went around Gale's shoulders and the momentum swung me into the air as Gale's put his arms around me as well.

"Katniss, you're missing your train," was the first thing he said when we finally staggered apart, drenched and shivering.

"I know. I don't care. I-I—" Words filled my mouth, trying to roll off of my tongue but none of them would actually come out. What to say? I jumped out of a moving train and ran into his arms. What had I really been thinking?

Gale put both his hands on my shoulders. "What are doing?"

"Staying," I said before I could really think about it, but then I clamped my mouth shut. And then the words flooded. "I haven't been fair. I'm sorry. You've been so wonderful and I-I've been terrible and I have no one left except…except you."

There was silence except for the sizzle of rain around us. Rivulets of water ran down our faces and hair and clothes. Every part of me was soaked, but I didn't care.

Gale furrowed his brows for a split second, looked away, and then looked into my eyes again. "…I've got no one except you, too."

I was unable to say anything else. Rain mixed in with my tears as they washed down my face. Standing there, eyes locked with the grey of Gale's, I could only imagine what life would be like without him: lonely, painful, silent, exhausting. Here with him, no matter how cold and wet we were, I only felt appreciation for his friendship.

When I lifted my head near his, I didn't really mean for it to happen, but he closed the last few inches between us by gently pressing his lips against mine. It lasted for only a second, but that was all it took.

"Come on," he wrapped his hand around mine and pulled me towards the other direction, towards his road. "Let's get you into dry clothing."

I knew that it would take a long time to reciprocate his love the way he did, but I would try.

Maybe I would heal.

Maybe I wouldn't.

Either way, I had my best friend back, and that was all I wanted right then.

Ten days wasn't long enough to fall in love, anyone knew that. But it was enough to realize what I had and to realize what I'd be without it.

I'd be nothing without Gale and we both knew it.

I loved Peeta, but his time passed. I'd start anew with fresh feelings and an open mind. I'd never forget him, and that was okay, but hopefully those memories would someday would only _be_ memories, and no root for pain. I knew him, and I knew he'd just want me to be happy.

I wasn't going to be happy for a long while, but I could try.

And try I did.

The first day I was shattered.

The second day, he tried to mend me.

The third day I sat with him, healing.

The fourth day I cried over the scar.

The fifth day I went to sleep with him.

The sixth I found his arms after a nightmare.

The seventh day I hold his hand.

The eighth day I let him kiss me on the forehead.

The ninth he makes me laugh.

And on the tenth day, I was ready to start again.

**oOo**

_TA-DAAA! I don't finish stories often, but this…this impressed me. I'm very proud of myself._

_Did you guys like it? I know I rushed at the end, but WHO CARES? Gale and Katniss are finally together!_

_Now, being Team Peeta 90%, this was incredibly hard to finish (especially after my story Hourglass), but I did it! So yay!_

_Who loves me enough to review? Do _you_?_


	12. Chapter 12

_This is it! Wish me luck, everyone! It's going to be a little short, and most likely FAST, so apologies if you don't like it._

_My GOD. Please, if you know what's good for you, go to YouTube and search Let Me Take You There by the Plain White T's. Really. Your heart will never be the same. _

"_I know a place where we can hide out_

_And turn our hearts inside out,_

_No one would know who we are…_

_Let me take you there"_

**oOo**

The next day I woke in Gale's arms as I had the last. They kept away my nightmares, oddly enough, but when I realized what that day was, I wondered why I _hadn't_ had bad dreams. This was my last day in District 2.

Trying not to be too incredibly upset, I scooted out of bed and shuffled over to the closet as Gale woke.

He rolled out of bed and squinted at me through his dark eyelashes as I began taking all of my belongings from his room. We hadn't discussed my stay after yesterday's picnic. There was nothing _to_ discuss. But the quicker I left the better, so I didn't have time to change my mind.

After shoving all of my stuff into a bag and setting it on the couch, Gale and I met in the kitchen to work on breakfast.

"What time are you thinking of…of leaving?" Gale asked while stirring bitter-smelling coffee.

Unable to think too deeply of that subject, I just shrugged and took a bite of porridge.

"Are you going to talk to me at all today?"

It wasn't a mean question, nor particularly resentful.

I let out a loud sigh and rubbed my eyes. "Yes, Gale. I am. I just have nothing to say."

Silence for a minute.

"…No goodbye?"

That kind of startled me. I put down my spoon and furrowed my brows at Gale through my loose hair. "I thought we were going to walk to the station together. I'll say goodbye then."

I had to admit, things were a little stiff between us. Even after the talk we had yesterday… _Especially_ after the talk, my feelings for him had changed drastically. Not like you'd think, though. Things went from me not knowing how I felt to _really_ not knowing how I felt and questioning whether or not I loved him.

I loved Peeta.

But he was dead.

Did that matter? Would he care if I loved someone else so soon after his death? Though what we had was special and beautiful, maybe Gale was better for me than Peeta was.

After breakfast, I zipped up my jacket and put on my hat, and as we walked outside (a backpack slung over my shoulders), I realized it had begun raining again. It did that a lot, I realized, letting cold water shower down from the sky, drenching everything in sight.

The second I stepped off of the porch the rain plastered my hair to my forehead and dragged my clothes downwards with its weight.

"Are you going to be okay?" Gale asked, speaking loudly over the sound of shattering water droplets. "In the rain, I mean. I have an umbrella inside if you n—"

"I'm alright," I reassured him, and slung my bag over my shoulder again to slog onwards down the road.

That mile seemed like the longest mile of my life. Through the rain, everything around me a monotone grey to fit the mood, side-by-side with Gale, who looked like he wanted nothing more than for me to stay. It hurt so badly.

As we walked, I recapped in my head the ten days we'd spent together. I saw Gale's smile every time I showed some sign of hope, however rare. I saw him biting his lip whenever he reached out to touch my face.

Swallowing with an attempt to quell the pain rising in my chest, I glanced over at Gale. When he caught me staring and looked back, a small, sad smile reached his lips and he held it for just a second before we stopped at the booth selling train tickets.

"Destination?" quipped the knobby boy holding tickets.

Still fighting sorrow, I spoke past the lump in my throat. "District Twelve," I said quietly, and the boy nodded his head, giving me the tiny slip of paper.

"Train leaves in fifteen minutes," He shook rain out of his hair. "Only one ticket, miss?"

"Yes, thank you."

Feeling my eyes stinging—and not because of the rain—I stuffed the paper into my pocket.

It was impossible to look Gale in the eyes. I knew that he was holding back pleads for me to stay. I was ready to plead _myself_, but I did my best to not change my mind. _I can't stay_, I told myself. _I__t's not even an option_.

"I'm boarding early," I told Gale, voice full of tears and upset. "I-I'll see you another day."

Gale frowned deeply and shook his head, obvious grief in those begging gray eyes. "Please…Please, Katniss. Just a little longer."

I shook my head wildly. "I can't. I'm sorry."

I couldn't bear to see his face anymore, so I hiked the pack up between my shoulder blades and left, clapping my hand over my mouth so my sobs could be muffled.

The train was dry and warm, but stuffy. People shuffled by, mumbling amongst themselves. They paid no attention to me, surprisingly, but the second the door closed behind me I felt lonely. Warmth from the cab was nice, but nothing compared to having a pair of arms around you. Was I selfish for wanting to stay? Was I selfish for wanting, because I only missed him for my own purposes? I didn't know if I loved him, but I did at the same time.

If I tried, could I?

The train let out a hiss that sounded a little like the rain and I lurched a little as it began chugging forwards slowly. Out of the window I saw Gale, a black, blurry form way down the road. Drenched in rain and shoulders hunched, the tiny figure turned and began growing smaller as we parted.

Between one second of watching him and setting my backpack on the ground, he was there talking to me and holding me again. Immediately, I regretted my decision.

How come I was leaving him? No one wanted me back at home. My family had given up, the primroses were dying, Haymitch took Peeta's death as a reason to drink himself into even more of an oblivion. No one was waiting for me. Except Gale.

H was there for me, he helped me.

He stood by my side when I cried.

He didn't stay angry at me when I had a meltdown.

He tucked me in at night when I was lonely.

He let me sleep in his _bed_ with him when I was lonely.

He held my hand when I wanted him to, and respected my space when I didn't.

He loved me for who I was and not who I hated myself for being.

That in itself was reason enough to stay. After being so broken, I was practically unlovable, but somehow this man continued. He'd never given up on me.

Yet I'd given up on him.

Faster than I thought possible, I slammed open the sliding doors form the train and sprinted down the aisles. My legs pumped back and forth as I crashed into people, stumbling past, not bothering to even mutter an apology.

I ran into a train attendant bolting up a door on the side and I shoved him away.

"Miss, you can't exit when the train is moving. Y—" he started to say, but I kicked the door open and stumbled out.

Thankfully, the train wasn't moving too fast when I got out. I tripped and tumbled into a puddle, soaking what little of my body that hadn't been soaked already. Furiously swiping the water from my eyes, I stood and began stumbling back in the direction of the platform fifty feet away. My feet made slapping sounds against the pavement as I stumbled.

By then, I could barely see Gale. Rain poured like static on a TV screen, making visibility very limited, but I ran as fast as I ever had. My heart leapt into my throat and my head was screaming "_WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?" _but my mouth was yelling, "GALE!"

The blurry, near-invisible figure of Gale paused and turned right as I launched myself into his arms.

Our wet bodies collided almost painfully. My arms went around Gale's shoulders and the momentum swung me into the air as Gale's put his arms around me as well.

"Katniss, you're missing your train," was the first thing he said when we finally staggered apart, drenched and shivering.

"I know. I don't care. I-I—" Words filled my mouth, trying to roll off of my tongue but none of them would actually come out. What to say? I jumped out of a moving train and ran into his arms. What had I really been thinking?

Gale put both his hands on my shoulders. "What are doing?"

"Staying," I said before I could really think about it, but then I clamped my mouth shut. And then the words flooded. "I haven't been fair. I'm sorry. You've been so wonderful and I-I've been terrible and I have no one left except…except you."

There was silence except for the sizzle of rain around us. Rivulets of water ran down our faces and hair and clothes. Every part of me was soaked, but I didn't care.

Gale furrowed his brows for a split second, looked away, and then looked into my eyes again. "…I've got no one except you, too."

I was unable to say anything else. Rain mixed in with my tears as they washed down my face. Standing there, eyes locked with the grey of Gale's, I could only imagine what life would be like without him: lonely, painful, silent, exhausting. Here with him, no matter how cold and wet we were, I only felt appreciation for his friendship.

When I lifted my head near his, I didn't really mean for it to happen, but he closed the last few inches between us by gently pressing his lips against mine. It lasted for only a second, but that was all it took.

"Come on," he wrapped his hand around mine and pulled me towards the other direction, towards his road. "Let's get you into dry clothing."

I knew that it would take a long time to reciprocate his love the way he did, but I would try.

Maybe I would heal.

Maybe I wouldn't.

Either way, I had my best friend back, and that was all I wanted right then.

Ten days wasn't long enough to fall in love, anyone knew that. But it was enough to realize what I had and to realize what I'd be without it.

I'd be nothing without Gale and we both knew it.

I loved Peeta, but his time passed. I'd start anew with fresh feelings and an open mind. I'd never forget him, and that was okay, but hopefully those memories would someday would only _be_ memories, and no root for pain. I knew him, and I knew he'd just want me to be happy.

I wasn't going to be happy for a long while, but I could try.

And try I did.

The first day I was shattered.

The second day, he tried to mend me.

The third day I sat with him, healing.

The fourth day I cried over the scar.

The fifth day I went to sleep with him.

The sixth I found his arms after a nightmare.

The seventh day I hold his hand.

The eighth day I let him kiss me on the forehead.

The ninth he makes me laugh.

And on the tenth day, I was ready to start again.

**oOo**

_TA-DAAA! I don't finish stories often, but this…this impressed me. I'm very proud of myself._

_Did you guys like it? I know I rushed at the end, but WHO CARES? Gale and Katniss are finally together!_

_Now, being Team Peeta 90%, this was incredibly hard to finish (especially after my story Hourglass), but I did it! So yay!_

_Who loves me enough to review? Do _you_?_


End file.
